Being An Atheist Is A Matter Not

Thomas Beecham Was A Pompous Little Band-master Who Stood Against Everything Creative In The Art Of His Time.

We Lay On The Ground And Kissed. Perhaps You Smile. That We Only Lay On The Ground And Kissed. You Young People Can Lend Your Bodies Now, Play With Them, Give Them As We Could Not. But Remember That You Have Paid A Price: That Of A World Rich In Mystery And Delicate Emotion. It Is Not Only Species Of Animal That Die Out. But Whole Species Of Feeling. And If You Are Wise You Will Never Pity The Past For What It Did Not Know. But Pity Yourself For What It Did.

I Am Talking About The General Psychological Health Of The Species, Man. He Needs The Existence Of Mysteries. Not Their Solution.

The Craving To Risk Death Is Our Last Great Perversion. We Come From Night, We Go Into Night. Why Live In Night?

The Supposed Great Misery Of Our Century Is The Lack Of Time; Our Sense Of That, Not A Disinterested Love Of Science, And Certainly Not Wisdom, Is Why We Devote Such A Huge Proportion Of The Ingenuity And Income Of Our Societies To Finding Faster Ways Of Doing Things - As If The Final Aim Of Mankind Was To Grow Closer Not To A Perfect Humanity, But To A Perfect Lightning-flash.