Sayingszone

All of the biggest technological inventions created by man – the airplane, the automobile, the computer – says little about his intelligence, but speaks volumes about his laziness.

Inventor: A person who makes an ingenious arrangement of wheels, levers and springs, and believes it civilization.

It has become appallingly obvious that our technology has exceeded our humanity.

One machine can do the work of fifty ordinary men. No machine can do the work of one extraordinary man.

For a successful technology, reality must take precedence over public relations, for Nature cannot be fooled.

If it keeps up, man will atrophy all his limbs but the push-button finger.

Technological progress has merely provided us with more efficient means for going backwards.

Technology… the knack of so arranging the world that we don’t have to experience it.

Do you realize if it weren’t for Edison we’d be watching TV by candlelight?

God never made his work for man to mend.

It is a medium of entertainment which permits millions of people to listen to the same joke at the same time, and yet remain lonesome.

Technology… is a queer thing. It brings you great gifts with one hand, and it stabs you in the back with the other.

The drive toward complex technical achievement offers a clue to why the U.S. is good at space gadgetry and bad at slum problems.

The system of nature, of which man is a part, tends to be self-balancing, self-adjusting, self-cleansing. Not so with technology.

I am sorry to say that there is too much point to the wisecrack that life is extinct on other planets because their scientists were more advanced than ours.

This is perhaps the most beautiful time in human history; it is really pregnant with all kinds of creative possibilities made possible by science and technology which now constitute the slave of man – if man is not enslaved by it.

Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can’t see where it keeps its brain.

As far as I’m concerned, progress peaked with frozen pizza.

I like my new telephone, my computer works just fine, my calculator is perfect, but Lord, I miss my mind!

The production of too many useful things results in too many useless people.

The saddest aspect of life right now is that science gathers knowledge faster than society gathers wisdom.

When a machine begins to run without human aid, it is time to scrap it – whether it be a factory or a government.

We are becoming the servants in thought, as in action, of the machine we have created to serve us.

Use of advanced messaging technology does not imply an endorsement of western industrial civilization.

I think I should not go far wrong if I asserted that the amount of genuine leisure available in a society is generally in inverse proportion to the amount of labor-saving machinery it employs.

Technology presumes there’s just one right way to do things and there never is.

The real problem is not whether machines think but whether men do.

The machine does not isolate man from the great problems of nature but plunges him more deeply into them.

What the country needs are a few labor-making inventions.

Humanity is acquiring all the right technology for all the wrong reasons.

The greatest task before civilization at present is to make machines what they ought to be, the slaves, instead of the masters of men.

The factory of the future will have only two employees, a man and a dog. The man will be there to feed the dog. The dog will be there to keep the man from touching the equipment.

It is questionable if all the mechanical inventions yet made have lightened the day’s toil of any human being.

Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.

You cannot endow even the best machine with initiative; the jolliest steam-roller will not plant flowers.

We live in a society exquisitely dependent on science and technology, in which hardly anyone knows anything about science and technology.

Where there is the necessary technical skill to move mountains, there is no need for the faith that moves mountains.

Civilization advances by extending the number of important operations which we can perform without thinking of them.

Education makes machines which act like men and produces men who act like machines.

Some people worry that artificial intelligence will make us feel inferior, but then, anybody in his right mind should have an inferiority complex every time he looks at a flower.

Lo! Men have become the tools of their tools.

For a list of all the ways technology has failed to improve the quality of life, please press three.

The real danger is not that computers will begin to think like men, but that men will begin to think like computers.

Thrift is not an affair of the pocket, but an affair of character.

Thrift comes too late when you find it at the bottom of your purse.

Thrift was never more necessary in the world’s history than it is today.

Whatever thrift is, it is not avarice. Avarice is not generous; and, after all, it is the thrifty people who are generous.

The thrift that does not make a man charitable sours into avarice.

Industry, thrift and self-control are not sought because they create wealth, but because they create character.

A bargain ain’t a bargain unless it’s something you need.

Be thrifty, but not covetous.

By sowing frugality we reap liberty, a golden harvest.

I believe that thrift is essential to well-ordered living.

Cannot people realize how large an income is thrift?

Frugality may be termed the daughter of Prudence, the sister of Temperance, and the parent of Liberty.

Thrift means that you should always have the best you can possibly afford, when the thing has any reference to your physical and mental health, to your growth in efficiency and power.

He who does not economize will have to agonize.

Frugality is misery in disguise.

Beware of little expenses; a small leak will sink a great ship.

Clocks slay time… time is dead as long as it is being clicked off by little wheels; only when the clock stops does time come to life.

Time is what prevents everything from happening at once.

As if you could kill time without injuring eternity.

The clock talked loud. I threw it away, it scared me what it talked.

Men talk of killing time, while time quietly kills them.

In reality, killing time is only the name for another of the multifarious ways by which Time kills us.

For disappearing acts, it’s hard to beat what happens to the eight hours supposedly left after eight of sleep and eight of work.

But what minutes! Count them by sensation, and not by calendars, and each moment is a day.

Old Time, that greatest and longest established spinner of all!…. his factory is a secret place, his work is noiseless, and his hands are mutes.

Time wastes our bodies and our wits, but we waste time, so we are quits.

Time is the fire in which we burn.

You must have been warned against letting the golden hours slip by; but some of them are golden only because we let them slip by.

A good holiday is one spent among people whose notions of time are vaguer than yours.

The flower that you hold in your hands was born today and already it is as old as you are.

It’s a strange thing, but when you are dreading something, and would give anything to slow down time, it has a disobliging habit of speeding up.

Who forces time is pushed back by time; who yields to time finds time on his side.

Time is like the wind, it lifts the light and leaves the heavy.

Time is making fools of us again.

There is one kind of robber whom the law does not strike at, and who steals what is most precious to men: time.

Time is a dressmaker specializing in alterations.

How long a minute is, depends on which side of the bathroom door you’re on.

Time! the corrector when our judgments err.

Time is the coin of your life. It is the only coin you have, and only you can determine how it will be spent. Be careful lest you let other people spend it for you.

If you want work well done, select a busy man – the other kind has no time.

Time flies on restless pinions – constant never.

The Future is something which everyone reaches at the rate of sixty minutes an hour, whatever he does, whoever he is.

Time is a brisk wind, for each hour it brings something new… but who can understand and measure its sharp breath, its mystery and its design?

The time you think you’re missing, misses you too.

What then is time? If no one asks me, I know what it is. If I wish to explain it to him who asks, I do not know.

The inertia hardest to overcome is that of perfectly good seconds.

Watches are so named as a reminder – if you don’t watch carefully what you do with your time, it will slip away from you.

Time is the only thief we can’t get justice against.

There are whole years for which I hope I’ll never be cross-examined, for I could not give an alibi.

Time is what we want most, but… what we use worst.

Time is the longest distance between two places.

Can an afternoon revert?

Pick my left pocket of its silver dime, but spare the right – it holds my golden time!

Man goes nowhere. Everything comes to man, like tomorrow.

For centuries, man believed that the sun revolves around the earth. Centuries later, he still thinks that time moves clockwise.

Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in.

The Present is a Point just passed.

Methinks I see the wanton hours flee,And as they pass, turn back and laugh at me.

Much may be done in those little shreds and patches of time which every day produces, and which most men throw away.

One must learn a different… sense of time, one that depends more on small amounts than big ones.

Day, n. A period of twenty-four hours, mostly misspent.

Time is a great teacher, but unfortunately it kills all its pupils.

Too often travel, instead of broadening the mind, merely lengthens the conversation.

The World is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page.

I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel’s sake. The great affair is to move.

When preparing to travel, lay out all your clothes and all your money. Then take half the clothes and twice the money.

Thanks to the Interstate Highway System, it is now possible to travel across the country from coast to coast without seeing anything.

I think that travel comes from some deep urge to see the world, like the urge that brings up a worm in an Irish bog to see the moon when it is full.

A good traveler has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving.

Wandering re-establishes the original harmony which once existed between man and the universe.

No one realizes how beautiful it is to travel until he comes home and rests his head on his old, familiar pillow.

Travel and change of place impart new vigor to the mind.

It is not down in any map; true places never are.

The whole object of travel is not to set foot on foreign land; it is at last to set foot on one’s own country as a foreign land.

To get away from one’s working environment is, in a sense, to get away from one’s self; and this is often the chief advantage of travel and change.

And that’s the wonderful thing about family travel: it provides you with experiences that will remain locked forever in the scar tissue of your mind.

Travelers never think that they are the foreigners.

Most travel is best of all in the anticipation or the remembering; the reality has more to do with losing your luggage.

I soon realized that no journey carries one far unless, as it extends into the world around us, it goes an equal distance into the world within.

There are only two emotions in a plane: boredom and terror.

Now I know why they tell you to put your head between your knees on crash landings. You think you’re going to kiss your ass good-bye.

I have found out that there ain’t no surer way to find out whether you like people or hate them than to travel with them.

I feel about airplanes the way I feel about diets. It seems to me that they are wonderful things for other people to go on.

In America there are two classes of travel – first class, and with children.

If you reject the food, ignore the customs, fear the religion and avoid the people, you might better stay home.

If God had really intended men to fly, he’d make it easier to get to the airport.

I met a lot of people in Europe. I even encountered myself.

Whenever we safely land in a plane, we promise God a little something.

The only way of catching a train I ever discovered is to miss the train before.

The time to enjoy a European trip is about three weeks after unpacking.

I did not fully understand the dread term “terminal illness” until I saw Heath row for myself.

I dislike feeling at home when I am abroad.

I travel a lot; I hate having my life disrupted by routine.

To travel is to discover that everyone is wrong about other countries.

The traveler sees what he sees. The tourist sees what he has come to see.

We wander for distraction, but we travel for fulfillment.

Like all great travellers, I have seen more than I remember, and remember more than I have seen.

The most important trip you may take in life is meeting people halfway.

You can live for years next door to a big pine tree, honored to have so venerable a neighbor, even when it sheds needles all over your flowers or wakes you, dropping big cones onto your deck at still of night.

I frequently tramped eight or ten miles through the deepest snow to keep an appointment with a beech-tree, or a yellow birch, or an old acquaintance among the pines.

The trees are God’s great alphabet,With them He writes in shining green Across the world His thoughts serene.

I never saw a discontented tree. They grip the ground as though they liked it, and though fast rooted they travel about as far as we do. They go wandering forth in all directions with every wind, going and coming like ourselves, traveling with us around the sun two million miles a day, and through space heaven knows how fast and far!

Who leaves the pine-tree, leaves his friend,Unnerves his strength, invites his end.

God has cared for these trees, saved them from drought, disease, avalanches, and a thousand tempests and floods. But he cannot save them from fools.

I like trees because they seem more resigned to the way they have to live than other things do.

Of all the wonders of nature, a tree in summer is perhaps the most remarkable; with the possible exception of a moose singing “Embraceable You” in spats.

If trees could scream, would we be so cavalier about cutting them down? We might, if they screamed all the time, for no good reason.

The groves were God’s first temples.

Trees are your best antiques.

A seed hidden in the heart of an apple is an orchard invisible.

For in the true nature of things, if we rightly consider, every green tree is far more glorious than if it were made of gold and silver.

There is always Music amongst the trees in the Garden, but our hearts must be very quiet to hear it.

It is difficult to realize how great a part of all that is cheerful and delightful in the recollections of our own life is associated with trees.

And this, our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything.

The tree is more than first a seed, then a stem, then a living trunk, and then dead timber. The tree is a slow, enduring force straining to win the sky.

Us sing and dance, make faces and give flower bouquets, trying to be loved. You ever notice that trees do everything to git attention we do, except walk?

It is not so much for its beauty that the forest makes a claim upon men’s hearts, as for that subtle something, that quality of air that emanation from old trees, that so wonderfully changes and renews a weary spirit.

He who plants a tree Plants a hope.

Except during the nine months before he draws his first breath, no man manages his affairs as well as a tree does.

Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer’s day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time.

Trees are poems that earth writes upon the sky,We fell them down and turn them into paper,
That we may record our emptiness.

To the great tree-loving fraternity we belong. We love trees with universal and unfeigned love, and all things that do grow under them or around them – the whole leaf and root tribe.

Happiness is sharing a bowl of cherries and a book of poetry with a shade tree. He doesn’t eat much and doesn’t read much, but listens well and is a most gracious host.

The trees that have it in their pent-up buds, To darken nature and be summer woods.

The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago. The next best time is now.

I willingly confess to so great a partiality for trees as tempts me to respect a man in exact proportion to his respect for them.

The true meaning of life is to plant trees, under whose shade you do not expect to sit.

No town can fail of beauty, though its walks were gutters and its houses hovels, if venerable trees make magnificent colonnades along its streets.

Suburbia is where the developer bulldozes out the trees, then names the streets after them.

If I knew I should die tomorrow, I would plant a tree today.

Trees are the earth’s endless effort to speak to the listening heaven.

The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing which stands in their way.

Trees outstrip most people in the extent and depth of their work for the public good.

Why are there trees I never walk under But large and melodious thoughts descend upon me?

There are rich counsels in the trees.

Breeze is the conductor, trees the musicians, leaves the instruments.

God in the whizzing of a pleasant wind Shall march upon the tops of mulberry trees.

We can learn a lot from trees: they’re always grounded but never stop reaching heavenward.

The trees are whispering to me, reminding me of my roots, and my reach… shhhhhh… can you hear them? Selflessly sharing their subtle song.

The best part of happiness is the pines.

Only when the last tree has died and the last river been poisoned and the last fish been caught will we realise we cannot eat money.

Between every two pines is a doorway to a new world.

If you would know strength and patience, welcome the company of trees.

A tree never hits an automobile except in self defense.

Long, sparkling aisles of steel-stemmed trees Bending to counterfeit a breeze.

Trees are much like human beings and enjoy each other’s company. Only a few love to be alone.

Newspapers: dead trees with information smeared on them.

They kill good trees to put out bad newspapers.

Every creature is better alive than dead, men and moose and pine trees, and he who understands it aright will rather preserve its life than destroy it.

A tree which has lost its head will never recover it again, and will survive only as a monument of the ignorance and folly of its Tormentor.

You can’t be suspicious of a tree, or accuse a bird or a squirrel of subversion or challenge the ideology of a violet.

Plants are the young of the world, vessels of health and vigor; but they grope ever upward towards consciousness; the trees are imperfect men, and seem to bemoan their imprisonment, rooted in the ground.

Death is a low chemical trick played on everybody except sequoia trees.

Climb a tree – it gets you closer to heaven.

We say we love flowers, yet we pluck them. We say we love trees, yet we cut them down. And people still wonder why some are afraid when told they are loved.

Save a tree. Eat a beaver.

Bread and butter, devoid of charm in the drawing-room, is ambrosia eating under a tree.

As the poet said, “only God can make a tree” – probably because it’s so hard to figure out how to get the bark on.