Fancies were all very well for a change, but must be only occasional guests in a world devoted to reality.

Once a man strays out of the common herd, he's more likely to meet wolves in the thickets than angels.

It was a pity thoughts always ran the easiest way, like water in old ditches.

After all, what is every man? A horde of ghosts – like a Chinese nest of boxes – oaks that were acorns that were oaks. Death lies behind us, not in front – in our ancestors, back and back until...

Science, I am told, is making great strides, experimenting, groping after things which no sane man has ever dreamed of before – without being burned alive for it.

Yes, after all, this by now was his customary loneliness: there was little else he desired for the present than the hospitality of the dark.

The time's gone by for sentiment and all that foolery. Mercy's all very well but after all it's justice that clinches the bargain.

In these days of faith-cures, and hypnotism, and telepathy, and subliminalities – why, the simple old world grows very confusing. But rarely, very rarely novel.

It was to be a day of queer experiences. He had never realized with how many miracles mere everyday life is besieged.

A positive change has never been a result of worrying, complaining and making excuses instead of focusing on manifesting your true destiny.

I think my manager of 30-some odd years now, Tom Hammond. He's as fine a person as you could ever meet. And he's had great theatrical taste and has influenced me that way.

Is there anything more tedious than the often repeated tales of the old and forgetful?

Man minus the Machine is a slave; Man plus the Machine is a freeman.

Life is not a thing of knowing only--nay, mere knowledge has properly no place at all save as it becomes the handmaiden of feeling and emotions.

In the final analysis the weakness of Black Power is its failure to see that the black man needs the white man and the white man needs the black man.

Fancy that thou deservest to be hangedthou wilt feel it happiness to be only shot: fancy that thou deservest to be hanged ina hair halter, it will be a luxury to die in hemp.

I am under the direction of messengers from Heaven daily and nightly.

I am tired. My arm aches. My head boils. My feet are cold. But I am not aware of any weakness.

I don't know how to explain how, probably to my detriment, unselfpromoting I am. I used to have a cabaret act and I didn't even like to tell me people about that. I really hate selling myself.