Fenner laughed and then looked puzzled. "I don't understand one thing," he said. "If it was Wilson, how did Wynd come to have a man like that on such intimate terms? How did he come to be killed by a man he'd seen every day for years? He was famous as being a judge of men."
Father Brown thumped his umbrella on the ground with an emphasis he rarely showed.
"Yes," he said, almost fiercely. "That was how he came to be killed. He was killed for just that. He was killed for being a judge of men."
They all stared at him, but he went on almost as if they were not there.
"What is any man that he should be a judge of men?" he demanded. "These three were the tramps that once stood before him and were dismissed rapidly right and left to one place or another; as if for them there were no cloak of courtesy, no stages of intimacy, no free will in friendship. And twenty years has not exhausted the indignation born of that unfathomable insult in that moment when he dared to know them at a glance." --G.K. Chesterton, The Miracle of Moon Crescent
"If each of us would only sweep our own doorstep, the whole world would be clean." --Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta
"...then who am I to judge him?" --Pope Francis in press conference during flight back to Rome from Rio De Janeiro