A statesman in these days has a difficult task. He has to pursue the policy he deems advantageous to his country, but he has at the same time to recognize the force of popular feeling. Popular feeling is very often sentimental, muddleheaded, and eminently unsound, but it cannot be disregarded for all that.
A murderer is always a gambler. And, like many gamblers, a murderer often does not know when to stop. With each crime his opinion of his own abilities is strengthened. His sense of proportion is warped.
A mother’s love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity. It dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path.
A man when he is making up to anybody can be cordial and gallant and full of little attention and altogether charming. But when a man is really in love he can’t help looking like a sheep.
A man has got the control of his own destiny right there in his own hands. A man who respects himself strikes out on his own and makes something of his life.
A man doesn’t want to feel that a woman cares more for him than he does for her. He doesn’t want to feel owned, body and soul. It’s the damned possessive attitude! This man is mine – he belongs to me! That’s the sort of thing I can’t stick – no man could stick! He wants to get away – to get free. He wants to own his woman; he doesn’t want her to own him.