It is a hard but good law of fate, that as every evil, so every excessive power, wears itself out.

Without inspiration the best powers of the mind remain dormant. There is a fuel in us which needs to be ignited with sparks.

Each nationality contains its centre of happiness within itself, as a bullet the centre of gravity.

To think what is true, to sense what is beautiful and to want what is good, hereby the spirit finds purpose of a life in reason.

A poet is the creator of the nation around him, he gives them a world to see and has their souls in his hand to lead them to that world.

Those that embrace the entire universe with love, for the most part love nothing, but their narrow selves.

We live in a world we ourselves create.

Touch not the flute when drums are sounding around; when fools have the word, the wise will be silent.

What destiny sends, bear! Whoever perseveres will be crowned.

Brave is the lion tamer, brave is the world subduer, but braver is the one who has subdued himself.

All our science calculates with abstracted individual external marks, which do not touch the inner existence of any single thing

History judges a leader by results. Let my results do the talking.

The church and all Christians need to pray, but without playing an active part, it is impossible to impact the country

Miko: You would stand between me and this evil murderer?Hinjo: I'll stand between any two murderers I wish, thanks.

Actually I'm writing as best I can, in order to keep the momentum and the career there, but I want to live.

I think that one thing that America is guilty of is not ever apologizing for the greatest sin of the country, which is slavery.

I have learned that to do one's next duty is to take a step toward all that is worth possessing.

I read more books for research purposes, whether its a fictionalized biography of Johannes Gutenberg or a stack of urban fantasies.

A consultant is only as good as their last project.

Fear of disease killed more men than disease itself.

If I ventured in the slipstream between the viaducts of your dreams, where immobile steel rims crack and the ditch in the back roads stop. Could you find me?