The beauty of the world which is so soon to perish, has two edges, one of laughter, one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder.

I sometimes think that God will ask us, 'That wonderful world of mine, why didn't you enjoy it more?'

Any world that can produce the Taj Mahal, William Shakespeare, and striped toothpaste can't be all bad.

Great mother of big apples, it is a pretty world.

Poets, painters and puddings; these three make up the world as it ought to be.

There are books in which the footnotes or comments scrawled by some reader's hand in the margin are more interesting than the text. The world is one of these books.

The world began without man, and it will complete itself without him.

It is not necessary to imagine the world ending in fire or ice. There are two other possibilities: one is paperwork and the other is nostalgia.

It happened that a fire broke out backstage in a theatre. A clown came out to inform the public about it. They thought it was a joke and applauded. He repeated it; people laughed even more. This is the way I think the world will end - with general giggling by all the witty heads, who think it is a joke.

The world is always ending; the exact date depends on when you came into it.