War? War Is An Organized Bore.

And Silence, Like A Poultice, Comes To Heal The Blows Of Sound.

I Dare Say That I Have Worked Off My Fundamental Formula On You That The Chief End Of Man Is To Frame General Propositions And That No General Proposition Is Worth A Damn.

With All Humility, I Think, "whatsoever Thy Hand Findeth To Do, Do It With Thy Might." Infinitely More Important Than The Vain Attempt To Love One's Neighbor As One's Self. If You Want To Hit A Bird On The Wing You Must Have All Your Will In Focus, You Must Not Be Thinking About Yourself, And Equally, You Must Not Be Thinking About Your Neighbor; You Must Be Living With Your Eye On That Bird. Every Achievement Is A Bird On The Wing.

Every Now And Then A Man's Mind Is Stretched By A New Idea Or Sensation, And Never Shrinks Back To Its Former Dimensions.

Three Generations Of Imbeciles Are Enough.