The destiny of man is in his own soul

How inimitably graceful children are in general before they learn to dance!

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

You are mortal. You age, you die. If that is not hell, pray tell me, what is?

Cassandra Clare

There is but one true philosophical problem and that is suicide.

Albert Camus

Perfecting is our destiny, but perfection never our lot.

C. J. Weber

War is the science of destruction.

John Abbott

I have made as much out of myself as could be made of the stuff, and no man should require more.

Jean Paul Richter

We cannot defend freedom abroad by deserting it at home.

Edward R. Murrow

I wiped away the weeds and foam, And fetched my sea-born treasures home; But the poor, unsightly, noisome things Had left their beauty on the shore With the sun, and the sand, and the wild uproar.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

He said science was going to discover the basic secret of life some day,' the bartender put in. He scratched his head and frowned. 'Didn't I read in the paper the other day where they'd finally found out what it was?''I missed that,' I murmured. ' I saw that,' said Sandra. 'About two days ago.''That's right,' said the bartender.'What is the secret of life?' I asked.'I forget,' said Sandra.'Protein,' the bartender declared. 'They found out something about protein.''Yeah,' said Sandra, 'that's it.

Kurt Vonnegut

Who gets the risks? The risks are given to the consumer, the unsuspecting consumer and the poor work force. And who gets the benefits? The benefits are only for the corporations, for the money makers.

Cesar Chavez

We hope that the long darkness through which the Burmese people have lived may now be coming to an end.

William Hague

The film of evening light made the red earth lucent, so that its dimensions were deepened, so that a stone, a post, a building, had greater depth, and more solidity than in any daytime light; and these objects were curiously more individual- a post was more essentially a post, set off from the earth it stood in and the field of corn it stood out against. All plants were individuals, not the mass of crop; and the ragged willow tree was itself, standing free of all other willow trees. The earth contributed a light to the evening. The front of the gray, paintless house, facing the west, was luminous as the moon is. The gray dusty truck, in the yard before the door, stood out magically in this light, in the overdrawn perspective of a stereopticon.

John Steinbeck, The Grapes of Wr