The average man never really thinks from end to end of his life. The mental activity of such people is only a mouthing of clichés.

I'm thoroughly convinced that editors don't help authors.

Man is the yokel par excellence, the booby unmatchable, the king dupe of the cosmos. He is chronically and unescapably deceived, not only by the other animals and by the delusive face of nature herself--by his incomparable talent for searching out and embracing what is false, and for overlooking and denying what is true.

Who ever heard, indeed, of an autobiography that was not (interesting)? I can recall none in all the literature of the world

It is, indeed, one of the capital tragedies of youth-and youth is the time of real tragedy-that the young are thrown mainly with adults they do not quite respect.

It is often argued that religion is valuable because it makes men good, but even if this were true it would not be a proof that religion is true. That would be an extension of pragmatism beyond endurance. Santa Claus makes children good in precisely the same way, and yet no one would argue seriously that the fact proves his existence. The defense of religion is full of such logical imbecilities.

For the habitual truth-teller and truth-seeker, indeed, the whole world has very little liking. He is always unpopular.