There are three things men can do with women: love them, suffer for them, or turn them into literature.

Life is wasted on the living.

Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits, and Are melted into air, into thin air: And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff As dreams are made on; and our little life Is rounded with a sleep. -The Tempest. Act iv. Sc. 1.

We have all the light we need, we just need to put it in practice.

The wealth and prosperity of the country are only the comeliness of the body, the fullness of the flesh and fat; but the spirit is independent of them; it requires only muscle, bone and nerve for the true exercise of its functions. We cannot lose our liberty, because we cannot cease to think.

It is in self-limitation that a master first shows himself.

Farce follow'd Comedy, and reach'd her prime. In ever laughing Foote's fantastic time, Mad wag! who pardon'd none, nor spared the best, And turn'd some very serious things to jest. Nor church nor state escaped his public sneers, Arms nor the gown, priests, lawyers, volunteers, Alas, poor Yorick! now forever mute! Whoever loves a laugh must sigh for Foote. We smile, perforce, when histrionic scenes Ape the swoln dialogue of kings and queens, When Chrononhotonthelogos must die, And Arthur struts in mimic majesty.

The prophet's mantle, ere his flight began, Dropt on the world--a sacred gift to man.

I am far frae my hame, an' i'm weary aften whiles, For the longed-for hame-bringing an' my Father's welcome smiles.

Work divided is in that manner shortened.

A pot clashes with its lid In someones hurried kitchen A telephone boils off the hook. Outside, a car door An airplane pulls a drag of cloud. muffled thunder.

Commemoration of John Donne, Priest, Poet, 1631 I throw myself down in my chamber, and I call in and invite God and His Angels thither; and when they are there, I neglect God and His Angels for the noise of a fly, for the rattling of a coach, for the whining of a door.

Yesterday is a canceled check: Forget it. Tomorrow is a promissory note: Don't count on it. Today is ready cash: Use it!

...everything is too important ever to be entrusted to professional experts, because every organization of such professionals and every established social organization becomes a vested-interest institution more concerned with its efforts to maintain itself or advance its own interests than to achieve the purpose that society expects it to achieve.

All of us are watchers--of television, of time clocks, of traffic on the freeway--but few are observers. Everyone is looking, not many are seeing.

If thy brother, the son of thy mother, or thy son, or thy daughter, or the wife of thy bosom, or thy friend, which is as thine own soul, entice thee secretly, saying, Let us go and serve other gods, which thou hast not known, thou, nor thy fathers.

Take her up tenderly, Lift her with care; Fashioned so slenderly, Young and so fair!

I know too much to be conservative or liberal.

When a man sends you an impudent letter, sit right down and give it back to him with interest ten times compounded, and then throw both letters in the wastebasket.

Politics is the art of preventing people from sticking their noses in things that are properly their business.