Life Is Made Up Of Constant Calls

"i Beseech Ye In The Bowels Of Christ, Think That Ye May Be Mistaken." I Should Like To Have That Written Over The Portals Of Every Church, Every School, And Every Courthouse, And, May I Say, Of Every Legislative Body In The United States. I Should Like To Have Every Court Begin, "i Beseech Ye In The Bowels Of Christ, Think That We May Be Mistaken."

Words Are Chameleons, Which Reflect The Color Of Their Environment.

For, When All Is Said, As My Friend George Rublee Likes To Put It, The Only Success Is To Be A Success As A Person; And It Is Still Not Too Late For That.

It Is The Daily; It Is The Small; It Is The Cumulative Injuries Of Little People That We Are Here To Protect....if We Are Able To Keep Our Democracy, There Must Be Once Commandment: Thou Shalt Not Ration Justice.

There Is No Fury Like That Against One Who, We Fear, May Succeed In Making Us Disloyal To Beliefs We Hold With Passion, But Have Not Really Won.