There is something tenderly appropriate in the serene death of the old. Nothing is more touching than the death of the young, the strong.

Either god should have written a book to fit my brain, or he should have made my brain to fit his book.

You see, after all, few rich men own their property. The property owns them.

Intellect, without heart, is infinitely cruel. . . . So that, after all, the real aristocracy must be that of goodness where the intellect is directed by the heart.

If I go to heaven I want to take my reason with me.

Whenever a man believes that he has the exact truth from God, there is in that man no spirit of compromise. He has not the modesty born of the imperfections of human nature; he has the arrogance of theological certainty and the tyranny born of ignorant assurance. Believing himself to be the slave of God, he imitates his master, and of all tyrants the worst is a slave in power.

When the will defies fear, when duty throws the gauntlet down to fate, when honor scorns to compromise with death - that is heroism.