“By Nature man is not what he ought to be; only through a transforming process does he arrive at truth.”

Propounding peace and love without practical or institutional engagement is delusion, not virtue.

Art is the sensuous presentation of ideas.

The one who merely flees is not yet free. In fleeing he is still conditioned by that from which he flees.

It is easier to discover a deficiency in individuals, in states, and in Providence, than to see their real import and value.

Every consciousness pursues the death of the other.

America is therefore the land of the future, where, in the ages that lie before us, the burden of the World’s History shall reveal itself.

What experience and history teaches us is that people and governments have never learned anything from history, or acted on principles deduced from it.

Art does not simply reveal God: it is one of the ways in which God reveals, and thus actualizes, himself.

Too fair to worship, too divine to love.

World history is a court of judgment.

It is solely by risking life that freedom is obtained.

The owl of Minerva begins its flight only with the coming of the dusk.

Devotion – a state of mind in which it refuses to occupy itself any longer with the limited and particular.

Thinking is, indeed, essentially the negation of that which is before us.

Art is the sensuous presentation of ideas.

History is not the soil in which happiness grows. The periods of happiness in it are the blank pages of history.

The fate of mankind, as well as religion, depends on the emergence of a new faith in the future. Armed with such a faith, we might find it possible to resanctify the earth.

Just as modern man consumes both too many calories and calories of no nutritional value, information workers eat data both in excess and from the wrong sources.

It is useless to attempt to reason a man out of a thing he was never reasoned into.

Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind.

Never test another man by your own weakness.

A man that is not afraid of a Lion is afraid of a Cat .

I never wonder to see men wicked, but I often wonder to see them not ashamed.

And perhaps beyond those shrouded swells another man did walk with another child on the dead gray sands. Slept but a sea apart on another beach among the bitter ashes of the world or stood in their rags lost to the same indifferent sun.