Whoever sincerely believes that elevated and distant goals are as little use to man as a cow, that "all of our problems" come from such goals, is left to eat, drink, sleep, or, when he gets sick of that, to run up to a chest and smash his forehead on its corner.
Anton Pavlovich Chekhov (1860–1904), Russian author, playwright. Letter, December 3, 1892, to his editor and friend, A.S. Suvorin. Complete Works and Letters in Thirty Volumes, Letters, vol. 5, p. 138, "Nauka" (1976).