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University Quotes

“He has little hope that university, when he gets there next year, will be any different. Like right now, all these pupils taking notes as if their life depended on it. All for what? he wants to shout. To get into the top university, so that you can somehow convince yourself you are better than the great unwashed? So that your parents can convince themselves that they are better parents than the great unwashed? So that Mum and Dad’s fourteen-hour days at the office, paying for a fucking private education you never asked for, wasn’t just a pathetic waste of a life?”

“I did not know of any single soul who succeed in life without a mentorship.”

“Sooner or later, all talk among foreigners in Pyongyang turns to one imponderable subject. Do the locals really believe what they are told, and do they truly revere Fat Man and Little Boy? I have been a visiting writer in several authoritarian and totalitarian states, and usually the question answers itself. Someone in a café makes an offhand remark. A piece of ironic graffiti is scrawled in the men's room. Some group at the university issues some improvised leaflet. The glacier begins to melt; a joke makes the rounds and the apparently immovable regime suddenly looks vulnerable and absurd. But it's almost impossible to convey the extent to which North Korea just isn't like that. South Koreans who met with long-lost family members after the June rapprochement were thunderstruck at the way their shabby and thin northern relatives extolled Fat Man and Little Boy. Of course, they had been handpicked, but they stuck to their line. There's a possible reason for the existence of this level of denial, which is backed up by an indescribable degree of surveillance and indoctrination. A North Korean citizen who decided that it was all a lie and a waste would have to face the fact that his life had been a lie and a waste also. The scenes of hysterical grief when Fat Man died were not all feigned; there might be a collective nervous breakdown if it was suddenly announced that the Great Leader had been a verbose and arrogant fraud. Picture, if you will, the abrupt deprogramming of more than 20 million Moonies or Jonestowners, who are suddenly informed that it was all a cruel joke and there's no longer anybody to tell them what to do. There wouldn't be enough Kool-Aid to go round. I often wondered how my guides kept straight faces. The streetlights are turned out all over Pyongyang—which is the most favored city in the country—every night. And the most prominent building on the skyline, in a town committed to hysterical architectural excess, is the Ryugyong Hotel. It's 105 floors high, and from a distance looks like a grotesquely enlarged version of the Transamerica Pyramid in San Francisco (or like a vast and cumbersome missile on a launchpad). The crane at its summit hasn't moved in years; it's a grandiose and incomplete ruin in the making. 'Under construction,' say the guides without a trace of irony. I suppose they just keep two sets of mental books and live with the contradiction for now.”

“There is a famous Cambridge toast that I have always liked: “God bless the higher mathematics, and may they never be of the slightest use to anybody”.”

“Our teachers forgot to mention that by throwing our tassels in the air, we throw every shit anyone can ever give about us. The world says it cares, but it goes ahead and does something different. I wish we weren’t cared for later than we’re supposed to be cared for. It's like: 'You graduated college. There’s no way you have any trace of still being a scared child. Oh, you fucked up? Here’s a jail cell.”

“Miksi minun olisi pitänyt lukea? Tietysti jotta pääsisin korkeakouluun, jotta minusta tulisi kunnon kansalainen. Vanhempani olivat molemmat lääkäreitä, niin, mutta ihmisiä kai he silti olivat eivätkä mitään riistäjäluokan petoja; tottahan he tienasivat enemmän kuin monet muut mutta eivät he upporikkaita olleet, tavallisia sairaalalääkäreitä jotka ruikuttivat reaalipalkkansa putoamista kun joskus luotua "herran" elintasoa oli niin vaikea säilyttää, eikä se mistään muusta kiikastanut kuin että menoja oli enemmän kuin tuloja, tuloja oli tarpeeksi, menoja oli liikaa. Vaikka vanhempani joskus, luullakseni, yrittivät opettaa minua nöyräksi, ymmärtäväksi (äiti jopa äänesti demareita) väijyi vanha vauraus kaikkialla: perintöosake Merikadulla, sataviisikymmentä neliötä, suvussa muinoin vaikuttaneelta suurliikemieheltä meillekin yltäneillä arvopapereilla hankittu kesämökki Kirkkonummella.”

“Ah college years, those were the days. Pure freedom ... leaving home for the first time…the parties…” "What about the tutorials, the lectures, the large building with all the books called the ‘library’?” “Is that what those were?” Gerry blithely replied.”

“...Come on let’s see the degree.” Katherine unrolled her scroll displaying a long declaration in Latin affixed with a red seal proclaiming her a Master of Art. “Imagine working for years to obtain a piece of paper we can hardly read ” Katherine joked. “And to officially declare you have talent ” Suzy returned.”

“With great enthusiasm and determination you will master the art in your field.”

“Where would tourism be without a little luxury and a taste of night life? There were several cities on Deanna, all moderate in size, but the largest was the capital, Atro City. For the connoisseur of fast-foods, Albrechts’ famous hotdogs and coldcats were sold fresh from his stall (Albrecht’s Takeaways) on Lupini Square. For the sake of his own mental health he had temporarily removed Hot Stuff Blend from the menu. The city was home to Atro City University, which taught everything from algebra and make-up application to advanced stamp collecting; and it was also home to the planet-famous bounty hunter – Beck the Badfeller. Beck was a legend in his own lifetime. If Deanna had any folklore, then Beck the Badfeller was one of its main features. He was the local version of Robin Hood, the Davy Crockett of Deanna. The Local rumor mill had it he was so good he could find the missing day in a leap year. Once, so the story goes, he even found a missing sock.”

“Life gives us experiences for personal development. Appreciate the lessons and be a learner.”

“Every beginner possesses a great potential to be an expert in his or her chosen field.”

“Lo que quiero conseguir del curso en la universidad es algún conocimiento sobre la mejor manera de vivir la vida y sacarle el máximo y mejor provecho. Quiero aprender para entender y ayudar a otra gente y a mí misma. (...) Ese es el fin que debe tener la universidad, en lugar de producir un montón de licenciados y graduados, tan atragantados de libros y vanidad que no les queda sitio para otra cosa.”

“Most of us are pseudo-scholars...for we are a very large and quite a powerful class, eminent in Church and State, we control the education of the Empire, we lend to the Press such distinction as it consents to receive, and we are a welcome asset at dinner-parties. Pseudo-scholarship is, on its good side, the homage paid by ignorance to learning. It also has an economic side, on which we need not be hard. Most of us must get a job before thirty, or sponge on our relatives, and many jobs can only be got by passing an exam. The pseudo-scholar often does well in examination (real scholars are not much good), and even when he fails he appreciates their inner majesty. They are gateways to employment, they have power to ban and bless. A paper on King Lear may lead somewhere, unlike the rather far-fetched play of the same name. It may be a stepping-stone to the Local Government Board. He does not often put it to himself openly and say, "That's the use of knowing things, they help you to get on." The economic pressure he feels is more often subconscious, and he goes to his exam, merely feeling that a paper on King Lear is a very tempestuous and terrible experience but an intensely real one. ...As long as learning is connected with earning, as long as certain jobs can only be reached through exams, so long must we take the examination system seriously. If another ladder to employment were contrived, much so-called education would disappear, and no one be a penny the stupider.”

“Active scholars are uniquely attracted by a high-quality graduate school of arts and sciences. Faculty members consider the teaching and training of new generations of graduate students as their highest calling. They believe that working with graduate students maintains and develops their professional skills more effectively than any other activity. It may be the main reason for the great attraction of academic jobs. Laboratory scientists have told me that the opportunity to work with graduate students keeps them in the university. For them, other options would center on research in commercial laboratories, but there the principal investigator would be assisted by technicians, and that is considered a far less creative interaction.”

“Sensitive to slight, they police even unintentional verbal offenses; concerned with the oppressed, they champion minorities and vilify the privileged; reliant on help, they publicly air lists of grievances. The university is the epicenter of victimhood culture. As such it is the epicenter of microaggression complaints, as well as trigger warnings, safe spaces, and hate crime hoaxes.”