A very wise old teacher once said: I consider a day's teaching wasted if we do not all have one hearty laugh.

Bad teaching wastes a great deal of effort, and spoils many lives which might have been full of energy and happiness.

The Sonnets of Shakespeare have the fascination of an autobiography, without its clarity. It is like reading an important document in a cave by the light of matches which keep blowing out.

What is politics but persuading the public to vote for this and support that and endure these for the promise of those?

The best school in the world will scarcely save a boy who hates the school and the purpose it serves and the society that created it.

The teacher's chief difficulty is poverty. He (or she) belongs to a badly paid profession. He cannot dress and live like a workman, but he is sometimes paid as little as an unskilled laborer.

The mind never need stop growing. Indeed, one of the few experiences which never pall is the experience of watching one's own mind and how it produces new interests, responds to new stimuli, and develops new thoughts, apparently without effort and almost independently of one's own conscious control.