“An editor is someone who separates the wheat from the chaff and then prints the chaff.”

Here brave men struggled and died for the right as God gave them to see the right.

The tragedy of our day is the climate of fear in which we live, and fear breeds repression.

Carelessness about our security is dangerous, carelessness about our freedom is also dangerous.

Your public servants serve you right; indeed often they serve you better than your apathy and indifference deserve.

Here, in the dread tribunal of last resort, valor contended against valor.

They cannot be born wise; and it is the duty of the university to make the free wise.

Men may be born free

Too often sinister threats to the bill of rights, to freedom of the mind, are concealed under the patriotic cloak, of anti-communism.

The free mind is no barking dog to be tethered on a ten-foot chain.

If we value the pursuit of knowledge, we must be free to follow wherever that search may lead us.

Perhaps there is in that fact a parable for national statesmen, whose political horizons are all too often limited by national horizons.

The sound of tireless voices is the price we pay for the right to hear the music of our own opinions.

Power corrupts, but lack of power corrupts absolutely.

Some of us worship in churches, some in synagogues, some on golf courses…

Man is a strange animal, he doesn’t like to read the handwriting on the wall until his back is up against it.

There must be other, less cruel ways of obtaining knowledge.

No honey for me, if it comes with a bee.

I don’t think I have nerves of steel, far from it, but I can certainly stand up to things. I am not afraid to look suffering straight in the eyes.

The days that are still to come are the wisest witnesses.

There’s a bit of testicle at the bottom of our most sublime feelings and our purest tenderness.

Once in a while it vanishes – in the sense that I become deaf to beauty for a week or two or three.

The whole planet is waiting for someone to do it first.

Time. There is much time left and lots of life seasons. There is much to see, to do, and to be.

I am disappointed with myself. I am disappointed not so much with the particular things I have done as with the aspects of who I have become. I have a nagging sense that all is not as it should be.