I find the great thing in this world is not so much where we stand, as in what direction we are moving: To reach the port of heaven, we must sail sometimes with the wind and sometimes against it, but we must sail, and not drift, nor lie at anchor.

Society is always trying in some way to grind us down to a single flat surface.

We are all tattooed in our cradles with the beliefs of our tribe; the record may seem superficial, but it is indelible.

There are three natural anaesthetics: Sleep, fainting, and death.

Pretty much all the honest truth-telling there is in the world is done by children.

I have always sought to guide the future-but it is very lonely sometimes trying to play God.

The wind blows out, the bubble dies; The spring entomb'd in autumn lies; The dew dries up; the star is shot; The flight is past, and man forgot.