“If men are naturally in a state of war, why do they always carry arms and why do they have keys to lock their doors?”

A man’s conscience and his judgment are the same thing, and, as the judgment, so also the conscience may be erroneous”

The Value, or Worth of a man, is as of all other things, his Price; that is to say, so much as would be given for the use of his Power.

The Conscience is a thousand witnesses.

Concerning the first, there is a saying much usurped of late, That Wisedome is acquired, not by reading of Books, but of Men.

whatsoever a man does against his conscience, is sin.

Life itself is but Motion, and can never be without Desire, nor without Feare, no more than without Sense.

Now I am about to take my last voyage, a great leap in the dark.

War consisteth not in battle only, or the act of fighting but in a tract of time,wherein the will to contend by battle is sufficiently known.

Knowledge is power.

Desire, to know why, and how, curiosity; such as is in no living creature but man

If I read as many books as most men do, I would be as dull-witted as they are.

Words are the counters of wise men, and the money of fools.

The secret thoughts of a man run over all things, holy, profane, clean, obscene, grave, and light, without shame or blame.

Fact be virtuous, or vicious, as Fortune pleaseth.

Eloquence, with flattery, disposeth men to confide in them that have it; because the former is seeming wisdom, the latter seeming kindness.

No arts; no letters; no society; and which is worst of all, continual fear and danger of violent death; and the life of man solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.

Someone who seeks the Way doesn’t look beyond himself.

No one should have a key that turns a billion locks. It shouldn’t exist.

The gunner’s mate came up and started breaking the locks on the ammunition. Everything was locked up for fear that someone might go in there with a cigarette or something.

I can’t walk, so I can’t go home. No need to talk, cause I’m all alone. If I stay here they’re gonna lock me in, hitting the bottle again.

Are you keeping anything else from me? Im keeping a lot of things from you. Like? Like the way i feel about being locked up in here with you. You have no idea what you do to me.

We are caught inside a mystery, veiled in an enigma, locked inside a riddle

Maggie, we’re through with lies and liars in this house. Lock the door.

I can’t pass a bookstore without slipping inside, looking for the next book that will burn my hand when I touch its jacket, or hand me over a promissory note of such immense power that it contains the formula that will change everything about me.