“A broom sweeps clean, and itself becomes soiled; cleanse yourself of those offenses of which you may feel guilty.”

Everything above and below is one unity.

There is no room for God in the man who is filled with himself.

Fear builds walls to bar the light.

The world is full of wonders and miracles but man takes his little hand and covers his eyes and sees nothing.

I am going out one door, and shall go through another.

From every human being there rises a light.

Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.” Why? Because every human being has a root in the Unity, and to reject the minutest particle of the Unity is to reject it all.

Forgetfulness leads to exile while remembrance is the secret of redemption.

Your fellow man is your mirror. If your own face is clean, the image you perceive will also be flawless. But should you look upon your fellow man and see a blemish, it is your own imperfection that you are encountering – you are being shown what it is that you must correct within yourself.

When a father complains that his son has taken to evil ways, what should he do? Love him more than ever.

Everybody is unique. Compare not yourself with anybody else lest you spoil God’s curriculum.

Before you can find God, you must lose yourself.

Telling the proper stories is as if you were approaching the throne of Heaven in a fiery chariot.

Whenever feeling downcast, each person should vitally remember, “For my sake, the entire world was created.”

For my sake, the entire world was created.

He who is full of joy is full of love.

The Anarchists answer that the abolition of the State will leave in existence a defensive association, resting no longer on a compulsory but on a voluntary basis, which will restrain invaders by any means that may prove necessary.

You may proclaim, good sirs, your fine philosophy But till you feed us, right and wrong can wait!

We are only so free that others may be free as well as we.

Being a language, mathematics may be used not only to inform but also, among other things, to seduce.

A novelist has mad a fictional representation of life. I doing so, he has revealed to us more significance, it may be, than he could find in life itself.

Love seeks no cause beyond itself and no fruit; it is its own fruit, its own enjoyment. I love because I love; I love in order that I may love.

More and more, the things we do in real life will end up as Facebook posts. And while we may be consoled by the fact that most of this stuff is being posted just to our friends, it only takes one friend to share that information with his or her friends to start a viral chain.

I think the time is past when one may not say the names of Hitler and Luther in the same breath. They belong together; they are of the same old stamp.