This site is dedicated to the memory of Dr. Alan William Smolowe who gave birth to the creation of this database.
When a teacher of the future comes to point out to the youth of America how the highest rewards of intellect and devotion can be gained, he may say to them, not by subtlety and intrigue not by wire pulling and demagoguery not by the arts of popularity not by skill and shiftiness in following expediency but by being firm in devotion to the principles of manhood and the application of morals and the courage of righteousness in the public life of our country by being a man without guile and without fear, without selfishness, and with devotion to duty, devotion to his country.
Better | Character | Evil | Folly | Government | Ignorance | Indifference | Indolence | Knowledge | Law | Life | Life | Little | Mind | Nature | Responsibility | Suffering | Time | World | Wrong | Government |
Elizabeth Dole, fully Mary Elizabeth Alexander Hanford "Liddy" Dole
In liberating Iraq, we have rid the nation and the rest of the world from the danger of Saddam Hussein.
Character | Children | Compassion | Honor | Life | Life | Will |
Shine comforts from the east, That I may back to Athens by daylight From these that my poor company detest; And sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye, Steal me awhile from mine own company.
Art | Beauty | Death | Enough | Evil | Father | Fortune | God | Good | Government | Heart | Rage | Shame | Tears | Vengeance | Virtue | Virtue | Government | Art | Beauty | God |
So wise so young, they say, do never live long. Richard III, Act iii, Scene 1
Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, profaners of this neighbour-stained steel, — Will they not hear? — What, ho! you men, you beasts, that quench the fire of your pernicious rage with purple fountains issuing from your veins! On pain of torture, from those bloody hands throw your mistemper'd weapons to the ground, and hear the sentence of your moved Prince. Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word, by thee, old Capulet, and Montague, have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets, and made Verona's ancient citizens cast by their grave beseeming ornaments, to wield old partisans, in hands as old, canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate. If ever you disturb our streets again, your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace. For this time, all the rest depart away. You, Capulet, shall go along with me — And Montague, come you this afternoon — To know our further pleasure in this case, to old Free-town, our common judgment-place. Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.
So we grew together, Like to a double cherry, seeming parted, But yet an union in partition-- Two lovely berries moulded on one stem; So, with two seeming bodies, but one heart; Two of the first, like coats in heraldry, Due but to one, and crowned with one crest. A Midsummer Night's Dream (Helena at III, ii)
See you now-- Your bait of falsehood takes this carp of truth, And thus do we of wisdom and of reach, With windlasses and with assays of bias, By indirections find directions out.
She either gives a stomach and no food— such are the poor, in health; or else a feast and takes away the stomach—such are the rich, that have abundance and enjoy it not.
Sir, I am about to weep; but, thinking that We are a queen (or long have dreamed so), certain The daughter of a king, my drops of tears I'll turn to sparks of fire.
Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, the bird of dawning singeth all night long, and then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad, the nights are wholesome, then no planets strike, no fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm. So hallowed and so gracious is that time.
We are like Tolstoy’s fabled beggar who spent his life sitting on a pot of gold, begging for pennies from every passerby, unaware that his fortune was right under him the whole time. Your treasure – your perfection – is within you already. But to claim it, you must leave the busy commotion of the mind and abandon the desires of the ego and enter into the silence of the heart.
Now I ask you if our religion teaches the dignity of woman? It teaches us the abominable idea of the sixth century--Augustine's idea--that motherhood is a curse; that woman is the author of sin, and is most corrupt. Can we ever cultivate any proper sense of self-respect as long as women take such sentiments from the mouths of the priesthood?
Emanuel Swedenborg, born Emanujel Swedberg
What a man takes in by contemplation, that he pours out in love.
Emil G. Hirsch, fully Emil Gustav Hirsch
Only they have to weep bitter tears who know what has come to them is the result of their foolish conduct, their ignorant way, their want of proper understanding of life and what love means.
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