He who saves you from war is better than he who sends you to war.

Libya is a war of the womb. A product of the romantic minds of women who fantasize about an Arab awakening. It is estrogen-driven paternalism on steroids.

Like environmentalists, politicians generally privilege flora and fauna over folks.

Government jobs are not an addition to the country's payroll; they are an increase in the nation's payload.

The proposition that economist Ludwig von Mises was a feminist is an apodictic impossibility.

Members of the media-monetary-military-congressional complex are immoral and have an allergy to the truth.

For too long, the U.S. has been operating upon the premise that American men and matériel should be capable of reaching and controlling all corners of the world. This was a bully’s universe.

Islamic terrorism is the handiwork of people who've heeded, not hijacked, Islam. Or so says [Wafa] Sultan.

[G]lobal warming, that manufactured monomania.

Hollywood no longer offers entertainment. Instead, activism has replaced acting, and sermons have supplanted stories. Instead of a good yarn, you get a yawn.

Whether it is committed by a group operating within or without the law, terrorism is still terrorism.

So I put up with bad behavior in the name of loving the way I thought you were supposed to love.

You cannot run a scociety or cope with it’s problems if people are not held accountable for what they do.

A lot of women, when they're young, feel they have very good friends, and find later on that friendship is complicated. It's easy to be friends when everyone's 18.

When you reach a certain age, suddenly there are lots of people younger than you, which is really startling.

The worlds originate so that truth may come and dwell therein.

Hatred in your heart for others is always weakness.

I am honored to have John Lloyd called the Black Wagner. It is a privilege to have been compared with him.

The Gospel which we possess was not given to us only to be admired, talked of, and professed - but to be practiced.

What does it matter that we take different roads so long as we reach the same goal?

Now no joy but lacks salt That is not dashed with pain And weariness and fault; I crave the stain Of tears, the aftermark Of almost too much love, The sweet of bitter bark And burning clove.