There still remains to mortify a wit The many headed monster of the pit.

Hasten slowly and ye shall soon arrive.

Doubting charms me not less than knowledge.

The heart may think it knows better: the senses know that absence blots people out. We really have no absent friends. The friend becomes a traitor by breaking, however unwillingly or sadly, out of our own zone: a hard judgment is passed on him, for all the pleas of the heart.

You're not supposed to be so blind with patriotism that you can't face reality. Wrong is wrong, no matter who says it.

Rumor doth double, like the voice and echo, The numbers of the feared.

Every sin is the result of collaboration.

I cannot think that God would be content To view unmoved the toiling and the strain, The groaning of the ages, sick and spent, The whole creation travailing in pain. The suffering God is no vast cosmic force, That by some blind, unthinking, loveless power Keeps stars and atoms swinging in their course, And reckons naught of men in this grim hour. Nor is the suffering God a fair ideal Engendered in the questioning hearts of men, A figment of the mind to help me steel My soul to rude realities I ken. God suffers with a love that cleanses dross; A God like that, I see upon a cross.

The great fish the small.

Well observe The rule of Not too much, by temperance taught In what thou eat'st and drink'st.

Most of the trouble in the world is caused by people wanting to be important.

The world is in your hands, now use it.

In science, as in common life, we frequently see that a novelty in system, or in practice, cannot be duly appreciated till time has sobered the enthusiasm of its advocates.

You cannot run away from weakness; you must some time fight it out or perish; and if that be so, why not now, and where you stand?

When the future hinges on the next words that are said, don't let logic interfere, believe your heart instead. . -Philip Robison.

Italia! O Italia! thou who hast The fatal gift of beauty, which became A funeral dower of present woes and past, On thy sweet brow is sorrow plough'd by shame, And annals graved in characters of flame.

I would rather start a family than finish one.

And better skilled in dark events to come.

When there is pain, there are no words. All pain is the same.

The church is looking for better methods. God is looking for better men.