It's Not The Critic That Counts.

The Most Ultimately Righteous Of All Wars Is A War With Savages, Though It Is Apt To Be Also The Most Terrible And Inhuman. The Rude, Fierce Settler Who Drives The Savage From The Land Lays All Civilized Mankind Under A Debt To Him. ...[i]t Is Of Incalculable Importance That America, Australia, And Siberia Should Pass Out Of The Hands Of Their Red, Black, And Yellow Aboriginal Owners, And Become The Heritage Of The Dominant World Races.

If You Could Kick The Person In The Pants Responsible For Most Of Your Trouble, You Wouldn't Sit For A Month.

No Nation Deserves To Exist If It Permits Itself To Lose The Stern And Virile Virtues; And This Without Regard To Whether The Loss Is Due To The Growth Of A Heartless And All-absorbing Commercialism, To Prolonged Indulgence In Luxury And Soft, Effortless Ease, Or To The Deification Of A Warped And Twisted Sentimentality.

Nothing In The World Is Worth Having Or Worth Doing Unless It Means Effort, Pain, Difficulty… I Have Never In My Life Envied A Human Being Who Led An Easy Life. I Have Envied A Great Many People Who Led Difficult Lives And Led Them Well.

In The Great Battle Of Life, No Brilliancy Of Intellect, No Perfection Of Bodily Development, Will Count When Weighed In The Balance Against The Assemblage Of Virtues, Active And Passive, Of Moral Qualities Which We Group Together Under The Name Of Character.