The idea of Christ is much older than Christianity.

The strongest feelings assigned to the conscience are not moral feelings at all; they express merely physical antipathies.

. . . until the curtain was rung down on the last act of the drama (and it might have no last act!) he wished the intellectual cripples and the moral hunchbacks not to be jeered at; perhaps they might turn out to be the heroes of the play.

There is no greater stupidity or meanness than to take uniformity for an ideal, as if it were not a benefit and a joy to a man, being what he is, to know that many are, have been, and will be better than he.

The world is a perpetual caricature of itself; at every moment it is the mockery and the contradiction of what it is pretending to be.

The Fates, like an absent-minded printer, seldom allow a single line to stand perfect and unmarred.

What religion a man shall have is a historical accident, quite as much as what language he shall speak.