Reason? That dreary shed, that hutch for grubby schoolboys.

Reason may be a small force, but it is constant, and works always in one direction, while the forces of unreason destroy one another in futile strife.

Pure logic is the ruin of the spirit.

The seed haunted by the sun never fails to find its way between the stones in the ground. And the pure logician, if no sun draws him forth, remains entangled in his logic.

Reason and happiness are like other flowers- they wither when plucked.

Reason in my philosophy is only a harmony among irrational impulses.

Reason deserves to be called a prophet; for in showing us the consequence and effect of our actions in the present, does it not tell us what the future will be?

In these anxious times many of us are less astonished that reason is ever suspended than that it should ever prevail, even during the briefest of intervals.

The man who listens to Reason is lost: Reason enslaves all whose minds are not strong enough to master her.

A mind all logic is like a knife all blade. It makes the hand bleed that uses it.