George Bernard Shaw

When a stupid man is doing something he is ashamed of, he always declares that it is his duty.

Man gives every reason for his conduct save one, every excuse for his crimes save one, every plea for his safety save one; and that one is his cowardice.

If you cannot get rid of the family skeleton, you may as well make it dance.

I dislike feeling at home when I am abroad.

No question is so difficult to answer as that which the answer is obvious.

Censorship ends in logical completeness when nobody is allowed to read any books except the books nobody reads.

True genius resides in the capacity for evaluation of uncertain, hazardous, and conflicting information.

A fly may sting a stately horse and make him wince; but one is but an insect, and the other is a horse still.

Infancy conforms to nobody: all conform to it, so that one babe commonly makes four or five out of the adults who prattle and play to it.

The longer we live the more we think and the higher the value we put on friendship and tenderness towards parents and friends.

Never do wrong when people are looking.

She was not quite what you would call refined. She was not quite what you would call unrefined. She was the kind of person that keeps a parrot.

It is dangerous for mortal beauty, or terrestrial virtue, to be examined by too strong a light. The torch of Truth shows much that we cannot, and all that we would not, see.

There is no way to success in art but to take off your coat, grind paint, and work like a digger on the railroad, all day and every day.

Nothing does reason more right, than the coolness of those that offer it: For Truth often suffers more by the heat of its defenders, than from the arguments of its opposers.

If a man owns land, the land owns him.

The only person you are destined to become is the person you decide to be.

You will have bad times, but they will always wake you up to the stuff you weren’t paying attention to.

Worldly faces never look so worldly as at a funeral. They have the same effect of grating incongruity as the sound of a coarse voice breaking the solemn silence of night.

It is in these acts called trivialities that the seeds of joy are forever wasted, until men and women look round with haggard faces at the devastation their own waste has made, and say, the earth bears no harvest of sweetness – calling their denial knowledge.

The sun is but a morning star.