There is no absurdity in its mental processes; all that is concealed…

History is an endless maze of unrelated happenings, until we divide it up into brief portions in which we discern a certain unity of purpose.

In the meantime, the real America had awakened, but in its own way. It had awakened, not as a neurasthenic awakes to a vague and benumbing sense of helplessness in the presence of disaster, but as a strong man awakes to the magnitude of …

We sometimes speak of stubborn facts. Nonsense! A fact is a mere babe when compared with a stubborn theory.

To keep shooting at a folly after it is dead is unsportsmanlike.

The scene was changed. It was a bark that slowly held its way, And o'er its lee the coast of France in the light of evening lay; And on its deck a lady sat, who gazed with tearful eyes Upon the fast receding hills that dim and distant rise.

So All is diff’rent, and yet All is One.