The education that we have so far succeeded in giving to the bulk of our citizens has produced a generation of mental slatterns.

If you want your own way, God will let you have it. Hell is the enjoyment of one's own way forever.

Death seems to provide the minds of the Anglo-Saxon race with a greater fund of amusement than any other single subject.

For the sole true end of education is simply this: to teach men how to learn for themselves; and whatever instruction fails to do this is effort spent in vain.

Time and trouble will tame an advanced young woman, but an advanced old woman is uncontrollable by any earthly force.

God was executed by people painfully like us, in a society very similar to our own ... by a corrupt church, a timid politician, and a fickle proletariat led by professional agitators.

What do we find God 'doing about' this business of sin and evil?...God did not abolish the fact of evil; He transformed it. He did not stop the Crucifixion; He rose from the dead.

A society in which consumption has to be artificially stimulated in order to keep production going is a society founded on trash and waste, for such a society is a house built upon sand.

It is not the business of the church to adapt Christ to men, but men to Christ.

As I grow older and older, And totter toward the tomb, I find that I care less and less Who goes to bed with whom.

If men will not understand the meaning of judgement, they will never come to understand the meaning of grace.

A Dreamer fails multiple times. A failure fails only once.

I am what I have ever read

Happiness is a very proud word of our whole cultural heritage.

By virtue of my traditions, and my community, I worked hard to ensure that I was accepted as part of the traditional family of America.

The principles of justice are chosen behind a veil of ignorance.

Even if you're the worst writer in the world, at least you'll have the evidence.

Caprice is half man. There is something manly about her.

Inspiration is a joke, real artists sit down and work

We had fed the heart on fantasies, The heart's grown brutal from the fare, More substance in our enmities Than in our love