The Wind Blows Out, The Bubble Dies;

A Word Is Not A Crystal, Transparent And Unchanged; It Is The Skin Of A Living Thought And May Vary Greatly In Color And Content According To The Circumstances And Time In Which It Is Used.

One Of The Eternal Conflicts Out Of Which Life Is Made Up Is That Between The Effort Of Every Man To Get The Most He Can For His Services, And That Of Society, Disguised Under The Name Of Capital, To Get His Services For The Least Possible Return.

Under Bad Manners, As Under Graver Faults, Lies Very Commonly An Overestimate Of Our Special Individuality, As Distinguished From Our Generic Humanity.

I Have No Respect For The Passion Of Equality, Which Seems To Me Merely Idealizing Envy - I Don't Disparage Envy, But I Don't Accept It As Legitimately My Master.

Poverty Comes Pleading Not For Charity, For The Most Part, But Imploring Us To Find A Purchaser For Its Unmarketable Wares.