Every thought of pity is like the balm of Gilead to our souls.

The man who fights for his fellow-man is a better man than the one who fights for himself.

Every thought of pity is like the balm of Gilead to our souls.

We know life is futile. A man who considers that his life is of very wonderful importance is awfully close to a padded cell.

Criminal cases receive the attention of the press. The cruel and disagreeable things of life are more apt to get the newspaper space than the pleasant ones. It must be that most people enjoy hearing of and reading about the troubles of others. Perhaps men unconsciously feel that they rise in the general level as others go down.

History repeats itself. That's one of the things wrong with history.

Everyone is the heir to all that has gone before; his structure and emotional life is fixed, and no two children of nature have the same heredity. I believe everyone should and must live out what is in him. So no two lives can be the same.