The condemned social order has not been built up on paper and ink, and I don't fancy that a combination of paper and ink will ever put an end to it.

There are men here and there to whom the whole of life is like an after-dinner hour with a cigar; easy, pleasant, empty, perhaps enlivened by some fable of strife to be forgotten - before the end is told - even if there happens to be any end to it.

The vision seemed to enter the house with me-the stretcher, the phantom-bearers, the wild crowd of obedient worshippers, the gloom of the forests, the glitter of the reach between the murky bends, the beat of the drum, regular and muffled like the beating of a heart-the heart of a conquering darkness.

Woe to the man whose heart has not learned while young to hope, to love - and to put its trust in life.

A certain simplicity of thought is common to serene souls at both ends of the social scale.

You can't, in sound morals, condemn a man for taking care of his own integrity. It is his clear duty.

You shall judge a man by his foes as well as by his friends.