The Proper Study Of Mankind Is Books.

If Men And Women Took Their Pleasures As Noisily As The Cats, What Londoner Could Ever Hope To Sleep Of Nights?

The Poet's Place, It Seems To Me, Is With The Mr. Hydes Of Human Nature.

Sixty Two Thousand Four Hundred Repetitions Make One Truth. Idiots!

Orthodoxy Is The Diehard Of The World Of Thought. It Learns Not, Neither Can It Forget.

Drill And Uniforms Impose An Architecture On The Crowd. An Army's Beautiful. But That's Not All; It Panders To Lower Instincts Than The Aesthetic. The Spectacle Of Human Beings Reduced To Automatism Satisfies The Lust For Power. Looking At Mechanized Slaves, One Fancies Oneself A Master.