Loyalty cannot be coerced

Loyalty is one of the few words in existence about whose meaning dispute is virtually impossible. Everyone knows what loyalty is, and what a desirable, nay indispensable thing it is to the survival of any community. Like honor and chastity, it is strongest when least talked about, and thrives only in a climate of uncritical acceptance. A virtuous investigation of loyalty is like a noisy oration in praise of silence, and the appearance of loyalty order and loyalty legislation...is a sign of lost confidence, a desperate groping in empty air for something which groping fingers only push farther out of reach. ("The Unsolved Loyalty Problem: Our Western Heritage", The Ancient State)

Ye hypocrites!

The worst sinners, according to Jesus, are not the harlots and publicans, but the religious leaders with their insistence on proper dress and grooming, their careful observance of all the rules, their precious concern for status symbols, their strict reality, their pious patriotism. ("What is Zion? A Distant View", Approaching Zion)

Management and the decline of civilization

"If you love me," said the greatest of all leaders, "you will keep my commandments." "If you know what is good for you," says the manager, "you will keep my commandments and not make waves." That is why the rise of management always marks the decline, alas, of culture. If the management does not go for Bach, very well, there will be no Bach in the meeting. If the management favors vile sentimental doggerel verse extolling the qualities that make for success, young people everywhere will be spouting long trade-journal jingles from the stand. If the management's taste in art is what will sell--trite, insipid, folksy kitsch--that is what we will get. If management finds maudlin, saccharine commercials appealing, that is what the public will get. If management must reflect the corporate image in tasteless, trendy new buildings, down come the fine old pioneer monuments. ("Leaders to Managers: The Fatal Shift", Brother Brigham Challenges the Saints)

What do we do now?

We're told there was no contention among them [in 4 Nephi]. Is there any wonder about that? There's no contention. What, no plot in the play? We're not going to have any fun without contention. With us, after the buildup, after the climax, after the denouement, they ride into the sunset or they live happily every after. The play must end there, because the author or the playwright has nowhere to go. After all the problems, after all the dirty work, after all the dangers have been passed, then we say, "The cloudless skies are all serene. Oh joy, oh rapture unforeseen." They have no place to go, so the author has nothing to do but end the play. But that's where the play should begin. What kind of fun are they going to have after that if they've lost all the excitement, if it's all passed away? This, as Spangler says, is the ultimate disaster to civilization. After all our problems are solved, then we have nothing to do but collapse into a pile of ashes. We're not going anywhere. Problemlosigkeit is the absence of problems. We've got to have an answer here. ("Lecture 103: 4 Nephi 1", Teachings of the Book of Mormon: Semester 4)

Certain eternal things

There are certain things of which we never tire, with which we never become bored. Those are the things of eternity. Yet strangely enough it is these which we easily dismiss and neglect as if they were highly expendable. ("Goods of First and Second Intent", Approaching Zion)

The stable societies

What do the other civilizations leave behind, the ones I call the stable ones? The ones after the manner of the old people. They leave themselves behind. Their next generation takes over and carries on. Time means nothing to them. It's an eternal order of the law. The law of consecration is an eternal order. We will just leave ourselves, the culture, behind, without any loss of product. People will have plenty to do and plenty to think of. ("Law of Consecration", Approaching Zion)