Persecution was at least a sign of personal interest. Tolerance is composed of nine parts of apathy to one of brotherly love.
Cast your cares on God; that anchor holds.
I have found some of the best reasons I ever had for remaining at the bottom simply by looking at the men at the top.
Clever people seem not to feel the natural pleasure of bewilderment, and are always answering questions when the chief relish of a life is to go on asking them.
Every improvement in communication makes the bore more terrible.
Men will confess to treason, murder, arson, false teeth, or a wig. How many of them will own up to a lack of humor?
I know of no more disagreeable sensation than to be left feeling generally angry without anybody in particular to be angry at.
That is the consolation of a little mind; you have the fun of changing it without impeding the progress of mankind.
You cannot find, make or understand true friendship without having enemies.
Many people lose their tempers merely from seeing you keep yours.
Averageness is a quality we must put up with. Men march toward civilization in column formation, and by the time the van has learned to admire the masters the rear is drawing reluctantly away from the totem pole.
We do not mind our not arriving anywhere nearly so much as our not having any company on the way.
When temptations march monotonously in regiments, one waits for to pass.
As wounded men may limp through life, so our war minds may not regain the balance of their thoughts for decades.
Distaste sounds more emphatic when expressed as moral disapproval. With most of us the moral counterblast is nothing more than the angry rendering of a yawn.
Literary people are forever judging the quality of the mind by the turn of expression.
Persecution was at least a sign of personal interest.
As crowds increase we build our forts of inattention, and the more we talk the easier it is to mean little and listen not at all.
We always carry out by committee anything in which any one of us alone would be too reasonable to persist.
Talk ought always to run obliquely, not nose to nose with no chance of mental escape.
The world is a play that would not be worth seeing if we knew the plot.
One learns little more about a man from the feats of his literary memory than from the feats of his alimentary canal.
Every man ought to be inquisitive through every hour of his great adventure down to the day when he shall no longer cast a shadow in the sun. For if he dies without a question in his heart, what excuse is there for his continuance?
If a large city can, after intense intellectual efforts, choose for its mayor a man who merely will not steal from it, we consider it a triumph of the suffrage.
By rights, satire is a lonely and introspective occupation, for nobody can describe a fool to the life without much patient self-inspection.
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