When I spoke, I was listened to; and I was at a loss to know how I had so easily acquired the art of commanding attention, and giving the tone to the conversation.
I’ve never joined any organization – not even the ones I’ve organized myself. I prize my own independence too much.
To the organizer, compromise is a key and beautiful word. It is always present in the pragmatics of operation… If you start with nothing, demand 100 percent, then compromise for 30 percent, you’re 30 percent ahead.
Our live experiences, fixed in aphorisms, stiffen into cold epigrams. Our heart’s blood, as we write it, turns to mere dull ink.
The one self-knowledge worth having is to know one’s own mind.
I strove with none; for none was worth my strife.
Once you accept your own death, all of a sudden you’re free to live. You no longer care about your reputation. You no longer care except so far as your life can be used tactically to promote a cause you believe in.
Everybody owned stock in the Capone mob; in a way, he was a public benefactor. I remember one time when he arrived at his box seat in Dyche Stadium for a Northwestern football game on Boy Scout Day, and 8,000 scouts got up in the stands and screamed in cadence, ‘Yea, yea, Big Al. Yea, yea, Big Al.’
All possible means were used by the infatuated parents to conclude the bargain; and deception put an end to these usual artifices.
Of what use were wings to a man fast bound in chains of iron?