The wound is for you, but the pain is for me.

There are no passengers on spaceship earth. We are all crew.

When I was a young man I vowed never to marry until I found the ideal woman. Well, I found her -- but alas, she was waiting for the ideal man.

Every crisis offers you extra desired power.

Dear to us are those who love us. . . but dearer are those who reject us as unworthy, for they add another life; they build a heaven before us whereof we had not dreamed, and thereby supply to us new powers out of the recesses of the spirit . . .

And grant that when I face the grisly Thing, My song may trumptet down the gray Perhaps Let me be as a tune-swept fiddlestring That feels the Master Melody--and snaps.

If you wish to know what a man is, place him in authority.

Crime is contagious. If the government becomes a lawbreaker, it breeds contempt for law.

If you want to truly understand something, try to change it.

Giving jazz the Congressional seal of approval is a little like making Huck Finn an honorary Boy Scout.

Serene I told my hands and wait, Nor care for wind or tide nor sea; I rave no more 'gainst time or fate, For lo! my own shall come to me.

Merciful heaven, Thou rather with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt Splits the unwedgeable and gnarled oak Than the soft myrtle; but man, proud man, Dressed in a little brief authority, Most ignorant of what he's most assured His glassy essence--like an angry ape Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven As makes the angels weep; who, with our spleens, would all themselves laugh mortal.

The axe soon forgets, but the tree always remembers.

To-morrow is, ah, whose?

Let still the woman take An elder than herself: so wears she to him, So sways she level in her husband's heart: For, boy, however we do praise ourselves, Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn, Than women's are. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 4.

I'm comfortable being old being black being Jewish.

It takes one hour of preparation for each minute of presentation time.

As the Sandwich-Islander believes that the strength and valor of the enemy he kills passes into himself, so we gain the strength of the temptations we resist.

To hear the lark begin his flight, And singing startle the dull Night, From his watch-tower in the skies, Till the dappled dawn doth rise.

Roused by the lash of his own stubborn tail, Our lion now will foreign foes assail.