Wouldn't it be dreadful if some day in our own world, at home, men start going wild inside, like the animals here, and still look like men, so that you'd never know which were which.

Obedience is the road to freedom, humility the road to pleasure, unity the road to personality.

I seemed to hear God saying, "Put down your gun and we'll talk.

Failures are finger posts on the road to achievement.

God, who needs nothing, loves into existence wholly superfluous creatures in order that he may love and perfect them.

While we are actually subjected to them, the 'moods' and 'spirits' of nature point no morals. Overwhelming gaiety, insupportable grandeur, sombre desolation are flung at you. Make what you can of them, if you must make at all. The only imperative that nature utters is, 'Look. Listen. Attend.

They have chosen cunning instead of belief. Their prison is only in their minds, yet they are in that prison; and so afraid of being taken in that they cannot be taken out.