Never so sure our rapture to create
As when it touch'd the brink of all we hate.

Modern fanaticism thrives in proportion to the quanitity of contradictions and nonsense it poures down the throats of the gaping multitude, and the jargon and mysticism it offers to their wonder and credulity.

Love turns, with little indulgence, to indifference or disgust: hatred alone is immortal.

Dumbfounded, I stood before the court, trying to figure out if there was a state of being between “guilty” and “innocent.” Why were those my only alternatives? I thought. Why couldn’t I be “neither” or “both”?

After a long pause, I finally faced the bench and said, “Your Honor, I plead human.

In time we hate that which we often fear.

The mission of the United States is one of benevolent assimilation.