History Furnishes To Politics All The Arguments

His (swami Vivekananda) Words Are Great Music, Phrases In The Style Of Beethoven, Stirring Rhythms Like The March Of Handel Choruses. I Cannot Touch These Sayings Of His, Scattered As They Are Through The Pages Of Books, At Thirty Years' Distance, Without Receiving A Thrill Through My Body Like An Electric Shock. And What Shocks, What Transports, Must Have Been Produced When In Burning Words They Issued From The Lips Of The Hero!

To Understand Everything Is To Hate Nothing.

When Nothing Hampers Action, The Soul Has Fewer Reasons For Action.

I Would Rather Have This Life Of Combat Than The Moral Calm And Mournful Stupor Of These Last Years. God Give Me Struggle, Enemies, Howling Crowds, All The Combot Of Which I Am Capable.

I Know At Last What Distinguishes Man From Animals; Financial Worries.