A Thought Will Color A World For

How True It Is That Words Are But The Vague Shadows Of The Volumes We Mean.

Life Is Made For The Strong. There Is No Mercy In It For The Weak– None...such Is The Tragedy Of Desire.

We Are To Have No Pictures Which The Puritan And The Narrow, Animated By An Obsolete Dogma, Cannot Approve Of. We Are To Have No Theaters No Motion Pictures, No Books, No Public Exhibitions Of Any Kind, No Speech Even Which Will Anyway Contravene His Limited View Of Life.

If We Are To Extract Any Joy Out Of Our Span, We Must Think And Plan And Make Things Better Not Only For Ourselves But For Others, Since Joy For Ourselves Depends Upon Our Joy In Others And Theirs In Us.

Your Writer, Your Scientist, Your Chief Official, All Have Lost The Power To Revive The Early Illusion Concerning Fame And High Place. Their Beauty And Delight Is Like The Mirage In The Heavens, Only Plain To The Eye Outside; Within Is Nothing.