The soul is not born; it does not die; it was not produced from anyone… Unborn, eternal, it is not slain, though the body is slain.

There is never a beginning, there is never an end, to the inexplicable continuity of this web of God, but always circular power returning into itself.

We are shut up in school and college recitation rooms for ten to fifteen years, and come out at last with a bellyful of words and do not know a thing. We cannot use our hands, or our legs, or our eyes, or our arms. We do not know an edible root in the woods. We cannot tell our course by the stars, nor the hour of day by the sun. It is well if we can swim and skate. We are afraid of a horse or a cow, of a dog, of a cat, of a spider. Far better was the Roman rule to teach a boy nothing that he could not learn standing.

The imitator dooms himself to hopeless mediocrity.

I am constrained every moment to acknowledge a higher origin for events than the will I call mine.

Man is not a farmer, or a professor, or an engineer, but he is all. Man is priest, and scholar, and statesman, and producer, and soldier.

Nothing can bring you peace but yourself. Nothing can bring you peace but the triumph of principles.