The idealist is incorrigible: if he is thrown out of his heaven he makes an ideal of his hell.

A map of the world that does not include Utopia is not worth even glancing at, for it leaves out the one country at which Humanity is always landing.

Our ideals, like pictures, are made from lights and shadows.

An idealist is a person who helps other people to be prosperous.

Instead of killing and dying in order to produce the being that we are not, we have to live and let live in order to create what we are.

Some day the soft Ideal that we wooed confronts us fiercely, foe-beset, pursued, and cries reproachful: ''Was it then my praise, and not myself was loved? Prove now thy truth; I claim of thee the promise of thy youth.''

It is the style of idealism to console itself for the loss of something old with the ability to gape at something new.

Man is born a predestined idealist, for he is born to act. To act is to affirm the worth of an end, and to persist in affirming the worth of an end is to make an ideal.

The true ideal is not opposed to the real but lies in it; and blessed are the eyes that find it.

If you are going to build something in the air it is always better to build castles than houses of cards.