I just think it's good to be confident. If I'm not on my team why should anybody else be?
Scholarship is polite argument.
Self-confidence is inseparable from submission to the creedal order, and through that order, to the supreme authority expressed in that order. . . . Deep individualism cannot exist except in relation to the highest authority. No inner discipline can operate without a charismatic institution, nor can such an institution survive without that supreme authority from a relation to whom self-confidence derives. Without an authority deeply installed, there is no foundation for individuality. Self-confidence thus expresses submission to supreme authority.
Religious man was born to be saved, psychological man is born to be pleased.
Intellection must address the matter of its feeling.
Religion may have been the original cure; Freud reminds us that it was also the original disease.
Psychological man may be going nowhere, but he aims to achieve a certain speed and certainty in going. Like his predecessor, the man of the market economy, he understands morality as that which is conducive to increased activity. The important thing is to keep going.
I find that the harder I work, the more luck I seem to have.
I was just at the newly opened Creationist Museum in Kentucky. . . . And they have this exhibit of a giant dinosaur. . . with a saddle on its back. Because the world is only 5000 years old, so man and the dinosaurs had to coexist, and, of course, we rode them. A theory I thought laughable at the age of eight when I saw it on the Flintstones!
Call me All-American, but I love Ham and Cheese sandwiches. And not just any old ham and cheese sandwich. . . My mother's is the best. I've tried many times to make these sandwiches on my own, but it's never the same.
Were I the Moor I would not be Iago. In following him I follow but myself; Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty, But seeming so for my peculiar end. For when my outward action doth demonstrate The native act and figure of my heart In compliment extern, ’tis not long after But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve For daws to peck at. I am not what I am