It's not about whether or not someone is a bigot, but whether or not the argument which that someone is arguing is worth being a bigot about.

At first, they'll only dislike what you say, but the more correct you start sounding the more they'll dislike you.

Excuse me," she said politely. "But you can't have him. Not yet. He's going to come back with me.

Dads. It’s time to show our sons how to properly treat a woman. It’s time to show our daughters how a girl should expect be treated. It’s time to show forgiveness and compassion. It’s time to show our children empathy. It’s time to break social norms and teach a healthier way of life! It’s time to teach good gender roles and to ditch the unnecessary ones. Does it really matter if your son likes the color pink? Is it going to hurt anybody? Do you not see the damage it inflicts to tell a boy that there is something wrong with him because he likes a certain color? Do we not see the damage we do in labeling our girls “tom boys” or our boys “feminine” just because they have their own likes and opinions on things? Things that really don’t matter?

Children are gifts. They are not ours for the breaking. They are ours for the making.

Dads. Do you not realize that a child is what you tell them they are? That people almost always become what they are labeled? Was whatever your child just did really the “dumbest thing you’ve ever seen somebody do”? Was it really the “most ridiculous thing they ever could have done”? Do you really believe that your child is an idiot? Because she now does. Think about that. Because you said it, she now believes it. Bravo.

Dads. It’s time to tell our kids that we love them. Constantly. It’s time to show our kids that we love them. Constantly. It’s time to take joy in their twenty-thousand daily questions and their inability to do things as quickly as we’d like. It’s time to take joy in their quirks and their ticks. It’s time to take joy in their facial expressions and their mispronounced words. It’s time to take joy in everything that our kids are.

Dads. Do your faces light up when you first see your child in the morning or when you come home from work? Do you not understand that a child’s entire sense of value can revolve around what they see in your face when you first see them?

Do you not realize that your kids are going to make mistakes, and a lot of them? Do you not realize the damage you do when you push your son’s nose into his mishaps or make your daughter feel worthless because she bumped or spilled something? Do you have any idea how easy it is to make your child feel abject? It’s as simple as letting out the words, “why would you do that!?” or “how many times have I told you…

Loving my son, building my son, touching my son, playing with my son, being with my son… these aren’t tasks that only super dads can perform. These are tasks that every dad should perform. Always. Without fail.

The moment you start arguing with an ignorant fool, you have already lost.

Usually without realizing it, our ultimate peace starts and ends in the authority of God alone, which means the solution to living in joy, peace, and harmony with our fellow men has been here for all since the beginning of mankind and throughout civilization. I have yet to feel the urge to argue politics: it reminds me of getting off the freeway to sit in raging traffic.

If you have to say or do something controversial, aim so that people will hate that they love it and not love that they hate it.

These days when Christians bicker they exaggerate passion into a legalistic belief and prosperity into a lukewarm belief.

Psychobabble attempts to redefine the entire English language just to make a correct statement incorrect. Psychology is the study of why someone would try to do this.

Don't even think of arguing with me. I'm an old woman and if you fight me about it, it could give me a heart attack.

Keep moving!” “Bea’s arguing with the floor.

A deep breath is a technique with which we minimize the number of instances where we say what we do not mean … or what we really think.

The tragic brilliance of politics and control is found in the ability to get the masses arguing over which poison they should drink.

...There are also those who inadvertently grant power to another man's words by continuously trying to spite him. If a man gets to the point where he can simply say, 'The sky is blue,' and people indignantly rush up trying to refute him saying, 'No, the sky is light blue,' then, whether they realize it or not, he has become an authority figure even to such adversaries.

(Personally, I have avoided many fights by going to bed angry and waking up to realize that I'd just been tired.)

...even good marriages sometimes involve flinging a remote control at the wall.

The best thing to do when someone is trying to argue with you is to repeatedly state "Stay Away" and video record the entire event. You may need that video for the police afterwords when the aggressor starts fabricating fantasies about the event.

When all the fights stop, so does the passion.

Do we not see the influence we have when we say we believe in one thing, but our children see us living something else? Do we not realize how little we encourage our children to actually decide what they believe, declare what they believe, and then live by it? Whether it’s religion, politics, sports, or societal norms. It is not our place to tell our kids what to think. It is our place to teach our kids to think correctly. If we do this, we need have no fear of what they will decide for themselves and how strongly they’ll stand behind it. A man will follow his own convictions to his death, but he’ll only follow another man’s convictions until he steps in manure.

Dads. Do you honestly expect anybody to believe that you can’t find 20 minutes to step away from your computer or turn off the television to play with your child? It has to happen every single day. Do you not understand that children will hinge their entire facet of trust on whether or not their dad plays with them and how involved he is when he plays with them? Do you know the damage you do by not playing with your children every day?

I am far from a perfect dad. And I always will be. But I’m a damn good dad, and my son will always feel bigger than anything life can throw at him. Why? Because I get it. I get the power a dad has in a child’s life, and in a child’s level of self-belief. I get that everything I ever do and ever say to my son will be absorbed, for good or for bad.

Dads. Do you not realize that your child needs to feel your skin on his? Do you not realize the incredible and powerful bond that skin on skin contact with your daughter will give you? Do you not understand the permanent mental connections that are made when you stroke your son’s bare back or rub your daughter’s bare tummy while you tell bedtime stories? And if any idiot says anything about that being inappropriate, you’re gonna get kicked in the face, first by me, and then by every other good dad out there. Touching your child is your duty as a father.

This is not a contest with your child. The winner is not the one with more points. The winner is the one whose child still loves them when they graduate from high school.

As for the majority, it is not so much race as it is political affiliation that really divides it today. What was once an issue of physical difference is now one of intellectual difference. Men have yet to master disagreeing without flashing all their frustrations that come with it; the conservative will throw half-truths while the liberal will throw insults. Combine these and what do you get? A dishonest mockery of a country.

It is the nature of physics to hear the loudest of mouths over the most comprehensive ones.

There's no point in arguing with an idiot - save for exposing their stupidity in their own words.

I am a great believer in not pushing each other’s “buttons” just because we know where they are! That’s part of trusting each other. We need to trust that our vulnerabilities and challenges are safe with the person we love.

I worked on Mauna Kea for over five years and saw my health severely degrade during that time. Thetwo long term summit workers that I knew well died of disease conditions, another worker went on tocommit suicide, and others were argumentative.

Don't argue about the difficulties. The difficulties will argue for themselves.

He’s looking at her with so much compassion. Like he knows what she’s going through. Like he cares about her. This is what she wanted to see after everything happened with Luke. Instead, she saw Jonah’s back, every time he turned and walked away from her.She blurts, “Why are you being nice to me?"She regrets it immediately. It’s the vulnerability talking. The fear. The adrenaline. For a second, she forgot the aloof, thick-skinned Hallelujah she needs to be.Jonah relaxes his grip. He looks away, out into the wet woods. He waits a long time before speaking. “Luke told me.”Hallelujah is instantly tense. “Luke told you what?”Another long pause. “That he lied. About what happened that night.”“What happened?” Rachel cuts in. “What’d Luke lie about?”Hallelujah ignores her. She stays focused on Jonah, even though he won’t look at her. “What’d he tell you originally?”Jonah flinches. “He made it . . . worse. Than what he told the adults. He said that that wasn’t the first time. And he said that you—”“Never mind,” Hallelujah cuts in. “I can guess.” She’s heard the rumors. The persistent ones and the surprising, weird, creative ones. She bets there are a lot that she hasn’t heard, too. “None of that happened,” she says softly but firmly, certain without even knowing exactly what Luke said. What Jonah heard. “None of it.”“That’s what he told me yesterday. I wanted to know why he was still—” He swallows, his Adam’s apple moving up and down. “I’d heard him and Brad laughing about what they were gonna do to you this week, and I was like, enough is enough. Time to let it go. So I asked him what was up. Why he was still messing with you.”“And?” Hallelujah asks.“And he told me the truth: that he’d made most of it up. He said he had to keep you quiet. Plus, um. He said messing with you was fun.”Hallelujah lets that sink in. “You really didn’t know it was a lie? You believed him this whole time?”Jonah suddenly looks right at her. His eyes plead. “I saw you, Hallie. And Luke was the only one of the two of you with a story to explain it.

Silence isn't always agreement. Sometimes people no longer argue because they no longer care.

It's hard to say which I like more, the perfectly happy days or the hours right after we've ended a good fight.

Arguing with a woman is like reading the Software License Agreement. In the end, you ignore everything and click I agree.

There are two theories to arguing with a woman. Neither one works. Don't bother.

Pride is always a better lever against the nobility than reason.

Being loud after drinking wine doesn't help. Being silent after drinking wine doesn't help. Nothing really ever gets solved either way.

Intellectual discourse and investigation is admittedly great fun but only truly meaningful when conducted in the service of others.

I'm sure my parents must be proud. Or horrified. Or are bitterly arguing about whether they're proud or horrified, and have already hired lawyers to resolve the dispute. -Hayden Upchurch

You can be justified in attacking someone, physically or verbally, but the satisfaction it brings is limited; it often leaves you with a bad feeling in the long run and gets you more involved with someone you'd like to stay away from.

Let us agree that we are marrying so we can go on quarreling in the greatest comfort and convenience. Oh, please, Althea, look at me. Do say yes.

Ravings, in short, jealousy of the past, the worst kind of all.

You can not argue with stupid but you can certainly play with it.

You're one to talk about talking crap, Forester." Dunstan's voice interrupts the memory, and I can't help but feel a little grateful. "Accusing my dad of poisoning the swamp? What a bunch of bull.""It's not bull,"I snarl. "Your dad's dumping trash into the swamp and you know it!"Dunstan finally loses it and stands up. The boat tilts dangerously. Melanie and the twins shriek, grasping the sides like they're glued to them."You two sit down this minute!" Babette bellows. She's holding onto the motor for dear life. Neither of us listens."You wanna run that by me again?" Dunstan growls. His fingers curl into fists."Your. Dad. Is. Poisoning. The. Swamp." I let each word out slowly like Dunstan's a dumb little kid who needs help understanding.

Just because you talk about it or advocate for one position doesn't mean you care more. Just because someone doesn't talk about it and advocates a different position doesn't mean they care less.