“It is of the essence of virtue that the good is not to be done for the sake of a reward.”

Self-respect is the root of discipline

This is one of the goals of the Jewish way of living: to experience commonplace deeds as spiritual adventures, to feel the hidden love and wisdom in all things.

Aeons hence, when of many of our cherished theories only shreds will remain, that cosmic tapestry will continue to shine.

For many of us the march from Selma to Montgomery was about protest and prayer. Legs are not lips and walking is not kneeling. And yet our legs uttered songs.

Celebration is a confrontation, giving attention to the transcendent meaning of one’s actions.

Self-respect is the fruit of discipline.

What we cannot comprehend by analysis, we become aware of in awe.

When faith becomes an heirloom rather than a living fountain; when religion speaks only in the name of authority rather than with the voice of compassion, its message becomes meaningless.

It is not critical knowledge but a risk of the heart which initiates affection and preserves loyalty in our fellow men.

The anchor of meaning resides in an abyss, deeper than the reach of despair.

I am commanded therefore I am.

Only in His presence shall we learn that the glory of humankind is not in its will to power but in its power of compassion.

Sometimes we wish the world could cry and tell us about that which made it pregnant with fear-filling grandeur. Sometimes we wish our own heart would speak of that which made it heavy with wonder.

When we pray, we bring G-d into the world

What is meant, however, is a higher category than being: the power of maintaining being.

A prophet’s true greatness is his ability to hold God and man in a single thought.

Victor and vanquished never unite in substantial agreement.

None make a greater show of sorrow than those who are most delighted.

He who never ventures beyond actuality will never win the prize of truth.

But the prize for courage will surely be awarded most justly to those who best know the difference between hardship and pleasure and yet are never tempted to shrink from danger.

Far must thy researches go Wouldst thou learn the world to know; Thou must tempt the dark abyss Wouldst thou prove what Being is; Naught but firmness gains the prize, Naught but fullness makes us wise, Buried deep truth e’er lies.

Not to be born is, past all prizing, best.

There is nothing on this earth more to be prized than true friendship

Who wouldn’t be a mountaineer! Up here all the world’s prizes seem nothing.