First problem. To produce wealth. Second problem. To distribute it.

Nothing can be sadder or more profound than to see a thousand things for the first and last time. To journey is to be born and die each minute...All the elements of life are in constant flight from us, with darkness and clarity intermingled, the vision and the eclipse; we look and hasten, reaching out our hands to clutch; every happening is a bend in the road...and suddenly we have grown old. We have a sense of shock and gathering darkness; ahead is a black doorway; the life that bore us is a flagging horse, and a veiled stranger is waiting in the shadows to unharness us.

We teachers make the road, others will make the journey.

It is the peculiarity of grief to bring out the childish side of man.

No army can withstand the strength of an idea whose time has come.

A bird sings, a child prattles, but it is the same hymn; hymn indistinct, inarticulate, but full of profound meaning.

There are plenty who regard a wall behind which something is happening as a very curious thing.