There are no strangers here, only friends you haven't yet met.
I know that I shall meet my fate somewhere among the clouds above, those that I fight I do not hate, those that I guard I do not love.
This melancholy London - I sometimes imagine that the souls of the lost are compelled to walk through its streets perpetually. One feels them passing like a whiff of air.
I think you can leave the arts superior or inferior to the conscience of mankind.
The government which was designed for the people has got into the hands of the bosses and their employers the special interests. An invisible empire has been set up above the forms of democracy.
Books are but waste paper unless we spend in action the wisdom we get from thought - asleep. When we are weary of the living we may repair to the dead who have nothing of peevishness pride or design in their conversation.