Individuality is the aim of political liberty. By leaving to the citizen as much freedom of action and of being, as comports with order and the rights of others, the institutions render him truly a freeman. He is left to pursue his means of happiness in his own manner.
People are submissive to power, and few of them can be influenced by doctrines of righteousness.
A good plan violently executed right now is far better than a perfect plan executed next week.
Management is efficiency in climbing the ladder of success; leadership determines whether the ladder is leaning against the right wall.
The most effective way to achieve right relations with any living thing is to look for the best in it, and then help that best into the fullest expression.
Despite everybody who has been born and has died, the world has just gone on. I mean, look at Napoleon --but we went right on. Look at Harpo Marx --the world went around, it didn't stop for a second. It's sad but true. John Kennedy, right?
Nothing is politically right which is morally wrong.
We must use time wisely and forever realize that the time is always ripe to do right.
He who hesitates is probably right.
Everything you need you already have. You are complete right now, you are a whole, total person, not an apprentice person on the way to someplace else. Your completeness must be understood by you and experienced in your thoughts as your own personal reality.
The ability to manage well doesn't make much difference if you're not even in the right jungle.
Our ultimate freedom is the right and power to decide how anybody or anything outside ourselves will affect us.
I believe in instinct, not in reason. When reason is right, nine times out of ten it is impotent, and when it prevails, nine times out of ten it is wrong.
Lo, this only have I found, that God hath made man upright; but they have sought out many inventions.
O, it's a snug little island! A right little, tight little island!
Oh, a dainty plant is the ivy green, That creepeth o'er ruins old! Of right choice food are his meals I ween, In his cell so lone and cold. . . . . Creeping where no life is seen, A rare old plant is the ivy green.
Then grew a wrinkle on fair Venus' brow, The amber sweet of love is turn'd to gall! Gloomy was Heaven; bright Phoebus did avow He would be coy, and would not love at all; Swearing no greater mischief could be wrought, Than love united to a jealous thought.
To jealousy, nothing is more frightful than laughter.
Rich and rare were the gems she wore, And a bright gold ring on her wand she bore.
A woman that is like a German clock, Still a-repairing, ever out of frame, And never going aright, being a watch, But being watched that it may still go right!
Guard with jealous attention the public liberty. Suspect everyone who approaches that jewel. Unfortunately, nothing will preserve it but downright force: Whenever you give up that force, you are inevitably ruined.
A good wife is heaven's last, best gift to man, - his gem of many virtues, his casket of jewels; her voice is sweet music, her smiles his brightest day, her kiss the guardian of his innocence, her arms the pale of his safety...
A humorist tells himself every morning, "I hope it's going to be a rough day." When things are going well, it's much harder to make the right jokes.
You throw a perfectly straight line at the audience and then, right at the end, you curve it. Good jokes do that.
The editor sat in his sanctum, his countenance furrowed with care, His mind at the bottom of business, his feet at the top of a chair, His chair-arm an elbow supporting, his right hand upholding his head, His eyes on his dusty table, with different documents spread.