Our civilization is still in a middle stage, scarcely beast, in that it is no longer wholly guided by instinct; scarcely human, in that it is not yet wholly guided by reason.

How true it is that words are but the vague shadows of the volumes we mean.

I believe in the compelling power of love. I do not understand it. I believe it to be the most fragrant blossom of all this thorny existence.

People in general attach too much importance to words. They are under the illusion that talking effects great results. As a matter of fact, words are, as a rule, the shallowest portion of all the argument. They but dimly represent the great surging feelings and desires which lie behind. When the distraction of the tongue is removed, the heart listens.

You walk into a room, see a woman, and something happens. It's chemical. What are you going to do about it?

A thought will color a world for us.

If I were personally to define religion, I would say that it is a bandage that man has invented to protect a soul made bloody by circustance.