Liberty is the breath of progress.

Hope is the only universal liar who never loses his reputation for veracity.

It is hard to overstate the debt we owe to the men and women of genius.

Twenty years after the death of Luther there were more Catholics than when he was born. And twenty years after the death of Voltaire there were millions less than when he was born.

I would not for my life destroy one star of human hope, but I want it so that when a poor woman rocks the cradle and sings a lullaby to the dimpled darling, she will not be compelled to believe that ninety-nine chances in a hundred she is raising kindling wood for hell.

We are all children of the same mother, and the same fate awaits us all. We, too, have our religion, and it is this: Help for the living-Hope for the dead.

It seems to me that if there is some infinite being who wants us to think alike he would have made us alike.