A man met a lad weeping. "What do you weep for?" he asked. "I am weeping for my sins," said read more

A man met a lad weeping. "What do you weep for?" he asked. "I am weeping for my sins," said the lad. "You must have little to do," said the man. The next day, they met again. Once more the lad was weeping. "Why do you weep now?" asked the man. "I am weeping because I have nothing to eat," said the lad. "I thought it would come to that," said the man.

We are what we believe we are.

We are what we believe we are.

With most people unbelief in one thing is founded upon blind belief in another.

With most people unbelief in one thing is founded upon blind belief in another.

The beauty of religious mania is that it has the power to explain everything. Once God (or Satan) is accepted read more

The beauty of religious mania is that it has the power to explain everything. Once God (or Satan) is accepted as the first cause of everything which happens in the mortal world, nothing is left to chance...logic can be happily tossed out the window.

Not life, but good life, is to be chiefly valued.

Not life, but good life, is to be chiefly valued.

If one age believes too much it is natural that another believes too little.

If one age believes too much it is natural that another believes too little.

I stopped believing in Santa Claus when I was six. Mother took me to see him in a department store read more

I stopped believing in Santa Claus when I was six. Mother took me to see him in a department store and he asked for my autograph.

It is now quite lawful for a Catholic woman to avoid pregnancy by a resort to mathematics, though she is read more

It is now quite lawful for a Catholic woman to avoid pregnancy by a resort to mathematics, though she is still forbidden to resort to physics or chemistry.

Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow--
You are not read more

Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow--
You are not wrong who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.