The mob is the mother of tyrants.

Revolutions are not made; they come.

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

Christmas Eve The soft light from a stable door Lies on the midnight lands; The wise men's star burns evermore, Over all the desert sands. Unto all peoples of the earth A little Child brought light; And never in the darkest place Can it be utter night. No flickering torch, no wavering fire, But Light the Life of men; Whatever clouds may veil the sky, Never is night again.

The more unpredictable the world is the more we rely on predictions.

He who owns the soil, owns up to the sky.

A mind's frigidity: frozen steel, dark rage, morbidity. Cold fire.

Books, like friends, should be few and well chosen.

Every ten seconds, somewhere on this earth, there is a woman giving birth to a child. She must be found and stopped.

Fascism is capitalism in decay.

Oft he that doth abide Is cause of his own paine, But he that flieth in good tide Perhaps may fight again.

The Mole and His Mother A mole, a creature blind from birth, once said to his Mother: I am sure than I can see, Mother! In the desire to prove to him his mistake, his Mother placed before him a few grains of frankincense, and asked, What is it?' The young Mole said, It is a pebble. His Mother exclaimed: My son, I am afraid that you are not only blind, but that you have lost your sense of smell.

Wicked acts are accustomed to be done with impunity for the mere desire of occupation.

A man must serve his time to every trade Save censure--critics all are ready made. Take hackney'd jokes from Miller, got by rote, With just enough of learning to misquote; A mind well skill'd to find or forge a fault; A turn for punning, call it Attic salt; To Jeffrey go, be silent and discreet, His pay is just ten sterling pounds per sheet; Fear not to lie, 'twill seem a lucky hit; Shrink not from blasphemy, 'twill pass for wit; Care not for feeling--pass your proper jest, And stand a critic, hated yet caress'd.

If what must be given is given willingly the kindness is doubled.

Journeys, like artists, are born and not made. A thousand differing circumstances contribute to them, few of them willed or determined by the will --whatever we may think.

Atheism is a non-prophet organization.

When you truly give up trying to be whole through others, you end up receiving what you always wanted from others.

Resentment is like taking poison and waiting for the other person to die.

The person who doesn't scatter the morning dew will not comb gray hairs