The discipline of the written word punishes both stupidity and dishonesty.

It is strange how a man believes he can think better in a special place. I have such a place, have always had it, but I know it isn't thinking I do there, but feeling and experiencing and remembering. It's a safety place. Everyone must have one, although I never heard a man tell of it.

I find out of long experience that I admire all nations and hate all governments

There is more beauty in truth, even if it is a dreadful beauty. The storytellers at the city gate twist life so that it looks sweet to the lazy and the stupid and the weak, and this only strengthens their infirmities and teaches nothing, cures nothing, nor does it let the heart soar.

Strength and success; they are above morality, above criticism. It seems then, that it is not what you do, but how you do it and what you call it.

The last clear definite function of men—muscles aching to work, minds aching to create beyond the single need—this is man.

I have wondered why is it that some people are less affected and torn by the verities of life and death that others.