Men have ascribed to God imperfections that they would deplore in themselves.

He is not famous. It may be that he never will be. It may be that when his life at last comes to an end he will leave no more trace of his sojourn on earth than a stone thrown into a river leaves on the surface of the water. But it may be that the way of life that he has chosen for himself and the peculiar strength and sweetness of his character may have an ever-growing influence over his fellow men so that, long after his death perhaps, it may be realized that there lived in this age a very remarkable creature.

The highest activities of consciousness have their origins in physical occurrences of the brain, just as the loveliest melodies are not too sublime to be expressed by notes.

I'm not only my spirit buy my body, and who can decide how much I, my individual self, am conditioned by the accident of my body? Would Byron have been Byron but for his club foot, or Dostoyevsky Dostoyevsky without his epilepsy?

For the complete life, the perfect pattern includes old age as well as youth and maturity.

A woman can forgive a man for the harm he does her...but she can never forgive him for the sacrifices he makes on her account.

The artist can within limits make what he likes of his life... It is only the artist, and maybe the criminal, who can make his own.