A Humanist Is Anyone Who Rejects The

The Mind Leaps, And Leaps Perhaps With A Sort Of Elation, Through The Immensities Of Space, But The Spirit, Frightened And Cold, Longs To Have Once More Above Its Head The Inverted Bowl Beyond Which May Lie Whatever Paradise Its Desires May Create.

The Most Important Part Of Our Lives-our Sensations, Emotions, Desires, And Aspirations-takes Place In A Universe Of Illusions Which Science Can Attenuate Or Destroy, But Which It Is Powerless To Enrich.

There Is No Conceivable Human Action Which Custom Has Not At One Time Justified And At Another Condemned.

A Tragic Writer Does Not Have To Believe In God, But He Must Believe In Man.

February... Now More Than Ever One Must Remind Oneself That It Is Wasteful Folly To Wish That Time Would Pass, Or - As The Puritanical Old Saying Used To Have It - To Kill Time Until It Kills You.