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Quote by Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr.

Work

Professor At The Breakfast Table

This book is a compilation of thoughtful and witty essays that delve into a wide range of topics, including ethics, morality, and human nature. The author, known only by the title, engages in lively conversations with a group of friends at breakfast, offering unique perspectives and insights into the complexities of life. The narrative style is conversational and accessible, making it an enjoyable read for those interested in philosophical discourse and social commentary. more

Author

Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr.
Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr.

Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr. was an American physician, poet, and writer who made significant contributions to the field of medicine and influenced American literature and culture. He was a pioneer in the use of ether as an anesthetic and a leading figure in the medical community of his time. more

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“I'd been staying at the Holiday Inn with my girlfriend, honestly the most beautiful woman I'd ever known, for three days under a phony name, shooting heroin. We made love in the bed, ate steaks at the restaurant, shot up in the john, puked, cried, accused one another, begged of one another, forgave, promised, and carried one another to heaven.”

“I wandered over across the hall where they were showing a short movie about vasectomies. Much later I told her that I'd actually gotten a vasectomy a long time ago, and somebody else must have gotten her pregnant. I also told her once that I had inoperable cancer and would soon be passed away and gone, eternally. But nothing I could think up, no matter how dramatic or horrible, ever made her repent or love me the way she had at first, before she really knew me.”

“Words... They're innocent, neutral, precise, standing for this, describing that, meaning the other, so if you look after them you can build bridges across incomprehension and chaos. But when they get their corners knocked off, they're no good any more... I don't think writers are sacred, but words are. They deserve respect. If you get the right ones in the right order, you can nudge the world a little or make a poem which children will speak for you when you're dead.”

“The last word in ignorance is the man who says of an animal or plant, "What good is it?" If the land mechanism as a whole is good, then every part is good, whether we understand it or not. If the biota, in the course of aeons, has built something we like but do not understand, then who but a fool would discard seemingly useless parts? To keep every cog and wheel is the first precaution of intelligent tinkering.”