... Love never forgets; or if it does, it is an imperfect love, like the beautiful love of a dog, faithful and unreasoning.

I'm not to blame for an old body, but I would be to blame for an old soul. An old soul is a shameful thing.

There is a bond, it appears, between mother and child which endures as long as they do. It is independent of love; reason cannot weaken it; hate cannot destroy it.

Conscience that isn't hitched up to common sense is a mighty dangerous thing.

a great moment raises most of the people who experience it, to its own level; and that is why they do not always recognize its greatness - or their own.

War is wicked, beause it is murder and hate. And it is foolish, because hate and murder can only destroy people's bodies, not change their minds.

Hearts don't come when Reason whistles to 'em.