Psychology ought certainly to give the teacher radical help.

Where is it, this present? It has melted in our grasp, fled ere we could touch it, gone in the instant of becoming.

How many of us persist in a precipitate course which, but for a moment of heedlessness we might never have entered upon, simply because we hate to change our minds.

[There are, in us] possibilities that take our breath away, and show a world wider than either physics or philistine ethics can imagine. Here is a world in which all is well, in spite of certain forms of death, death of hope, death of strength, death of responsibility, of fear and wrong, death of everything that paganism, naturalism and legalism pin their trust on.

To suggest personal will and effort to one all sicklied o'er with the sense of irremediable impotence is to suggest the most impossible of things. What he craves is to be consoled in his very powerlessness, to feel that the spirit of the universe recognizes and secures him, all decaying and failing as he is.

Common sense and a sense of humor are the same thing, moving at different speeds. A sense of humor is just common sense, dancing.

What a teacher needs to know about psychology "might almost be written on the palm of one's hand."