Someone asked me...how it felt and I was reminded of a story that a fellow townsman of ours used to tell--Abraham Lincoln. They asked him how he felt once after an unsuccessful election. He said he felt like a little boy who had stubbed his toe in the dark. He said that he was too old to cry, but it hurt too much to laugh.

The idea that you can merchandise candidates for high office like breakfast cereal - that you can gather votes like box tops - is, I think, the ultimate indignity to the democratic process.

Nothing so dates a man as to decry the younger generation.

You know, you really can't beat a household commodity - the ketchup bottle on the kitchen table.

On the plains of hesitation lie the blackened bones of countless millions who at the dawn of victory lay down to rest, and in resting died.

In America any boy may become President, and I suppose it's just one of the risks he takes.

Every age needs men who will redeem the time by living with a vision of the things that are to be.