Progress is impossible without change, and those who cannot change their minds cannot change anything.
Our entire much-praised technological progress, and civilization generally, could be compared to an axe in the hand of a pathological criminal.
In my case Pilgrim’s Progress consisted in my having to climb down a thousand ladders until I could reach out my hand to the little clod of earth that I am.
I was taught that the way of progress was neither swift nor easy.
I am suffocated and lost when I have not the bright feeling of progression.
He who is content with what has been done is an obstacle in the path of progress.
He that by the Plough would thrive, Himself must either hold or drive.
Forward, forward let us range, let the great world spin for ever down the ringing grooves of change.
Believing in progress does not mean believing that progress has yet been made. That is not the sort of belief that indicates real faith.
All life is just a progression toward, and then a recession from, one phrase — ‘I love you.’
