So much perfection argues rottenness somewhere.

Work is the best of narcotics, providing the patient be strong enough to take it. I dread idleness as if it were Hell.

Renunciation - that is the great fact we all, individuals and classes, have to learn. In trying to avoid it we bring misery to ourselves and others.

If a weakly mortal is to do anything in the world besides eat the bread thereof, there must be a determined subordination of the whole nature to the one aim no trifling with time, which is passing, with strength which is only too limited.

Religion is love; in no case is it logic.

So much perfection argues rottenness somewhere.