A Cruel Story Runs On Wheels, And

It Needs A Great Nature To Bear The Weight Of A Great Gratitude.

The State Only Aims At Instilling Those Qualities In Its Public By Which Its Demands Are Obeyed, And Its Exchequer Is Filled. Its Highest Attainment Is The Reduction Of Mankind To Clockwork. In Its Atmosphere All Those Finer And More Delicate Liberties, Which Require Treatment And Spacious Expansion, Inevitably Dry Up And Perish. The State Requires A Taxpaying Machine In Which There Is No Hitch, An Exchequer In Which There Is Never A Deficit, And A Public, Monotonous, Obedient, Colorless, Spiritless, Moving Humbly Like A Flock Of Sheep Along A Straight High Road Between Two Walls.

Sport Inevitably Creates Deadness Of Feeling. No One Could Take Pleasure In It Who Was Sensitive To Suffering; And Therefore Its Pursuit By Women Is Much More To Be Regretted Than Its Pursuit By Men, Because Women Pursue Much More Violently And Recklessly What They Pursue At All.

The Bread Of Bitterness Is The Food On Which Men Grow To Their Fullest Stature; The Waters Of Bitterness Are The Debatable Ford Through Which They Reach The Shores Of Wisdom; The Ashes Boldly Grasped And Eaten Without Faltering Are The Price That Must Be Paid For The Golden Fruit Of Knowledge.

One Must Pray First, But Afterwards One Must Help Oneself. God Does Not Care For Cowards.