Men do not understand books until they have a certain amount of life, or at any rate no man understands a deep book, until he has seen and lived at least part of its contents.
They died hard, those savage men – like wounded wolves at bay. They were filthy, and they were lousy, and they stunk. And I loved them.
I know many married men, I even know a few happily married men, but I don’t know one who wouldn’t fall down the first open coal hole running after the first pretty girl who gave him a wink.
Once men are caught up in an event, they cease to be afraid. Only the unknown frightens men.
A civilization is built on what is required of men, not on that which is provided for them.
The root of all superstition is that men observe when a thing hits, but not when it misses.
The chief difference between words and deeds is that words are always intended for men for their approbation, but deeds can be done only for God.
The same principles which at first view lead to skepticism, pursued to a certain point, bring men back to common sense.
I hate this fast growing tendency to chain men to machines in big factories and deprive them of all joy in their efforts – the plan will lead to cheap men and cheap products.