The Age Demanded An Image Of Its

Humanity Is The Rich Effluvium, It Is The Waste And The Manure And The Soil, And From It Grows The Tree Of The Arts.

Haie! Haie! These Were The Swift To Harry; These The Keen-scented; These Were The Souls Of Blood. Slow On The Leash, Pallid The Leash-men!

If The Individual, Or Heretic, Gets Hold Of Some Essential Truth, Or Sees Some Error In The System Being Practiced, He Commits So Many Marginal Errors Himself That He Is Worn Out Before He Can Establish His Point.

To Say That A State Cannot Pursue Its Aims Because There Is No Money, Is Like Saying That An Engineer Cannot Build Roads, Because There Are No Kilometers.

I Think An Alliance With Stalin's Russia Is Rotten.