History is a cyclic poem written by Time upon the memories of man.

...Thou madest us for Thyself, and our heart is restless, until it repose in Thee.

We choose to go to the moon. We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard, because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one which we intend to win, and the others, too.

When the people find that they can vote themselves money, that will herald the end of the republic. Sell not liberty to purchase power.

The changes in the human condition are uncertain and frequent. Many, on whom fortune has bestowed her favours, may trace their family to a more unprosperous station; and many who are now in obscurity, may look back upon the affluence and exalted rank of their ancestors.

Enemies are so stimulating.

Acting is the most minor of gifts and not a very high- class way to earn a living. After all, Shirley Temple could do it at the age of four.

If you want to sacrifice the admiration of many men for the criticism of one, go ahead, get married.

Discovery consists in seeing what everyone else has seen and thinking what no one else has thought.

A man without justice is a beast, and a man who would make himself a beast forgets the pain of being a man.