War is a crime committed by men and, therefore, when enough people say it shall not be, it cannot be.

Humanity has to travel a hard road to wisdom, and it has to travel it with bleeding feet.

Prohibition is a hard sounding word, worthless as a rallying cry, hard as a locked door or going to bed without your supper.

Why are pencils equipped with erasers if not to correct mistakes?

By nice women . . . you probably mean selfish women who have no more thought for the underprivileged, overworked women than a pussycat in a sunny window for the starving kitten in the street. Now in that sense I am not a nice woman, for I do care.

War proves nothing. To kill a man does not prove that he was in the wrong. Bloodletting cannot change men's spirits, neither can the evil of men's thoughts be driven out by blows. If I go to my neighbor's house, and break her furniture, and smash her pictures, and bind her children captive, it does not prove that I am fitter to live than she - yet according to ethics of nations it does. I have conquered her and she must pay me for my trouble; and her house and all that is left in it belongs to my heirs and successors, forever. That is war!

Have we not the brains to think? Hands to work? Hearts to feel? And lives to live?