“Satisfy a few to please many is bad.”

Dare to be wrong and to dream.

To save all we must risk all.

I have enjoyed earthly happiness, I have lived and loved.

As freely as the firmament embraces the world, or the sun pours forth impartially his beams, so mercy must encircle both friend and foe.

Art is difficult, transient is her reward.

Happy he who learns to bear what he cannot change.

No doubt the artist is the child of his time; but woe to him if he is also its disciple, or even its favorite.

The rich become richer and the poor become poorer is a cry heard throughout the whole civilized world.

We are too prone to find fault; let us look for some of the perfections.

Even in a righteous cause force is a fearful thing.

The very plants turn with a joyful transport to the light.

It is criminal to steal a purse, daring to steal a fortune, a mark of greatness to steal a crown. The blame diminishes as the guilt increases.

Obedience decks the Christian most.

Knowledge, the object of knowledge and the knower are the three factors which motivate action; the senses, the work and the doer comprise the threefold basis of action.

The man who fears nothing is as powerful as he who is feared by everybody.

Secrecy is for the happy,–misery, hopeless misery, needs no veil; under a thousand suns it dares act openly.

No one ever writes a book in which he is the bad guy.

I don’t think human beings are bad. They’re weak. And that’s what makes ’em bad.

Working people have alot of bad habits, but the worst of these is work.

It was at a vividly bad time in Norman Mailer’s life that I met him, and a sort of water-treading time in mine. He had stabbed his wife, and I was a copy boy at Time magazine.

All I want for christmas is your warmth, near the firing woods. Cuddling on the chair, swinging in merry times, forgetting our bad lies.

I had my first kiss when I was 11, but I think I’ve blocked it out of my mind because it was so bad. I’m not even sure it counts as a kiss.

Sin doesn’t make you bad, it makes you dead.

The cynic is one who never sees a good quality in a man, and never fails to see a bad one. He is the human owl, vigilant in darkness and blind to light, mousing for vermin, and never seeing noble game.