...all Cynicism Masks A Failure To Cope.

Whatever Sympathy I Feel Towards Religions, Whatever Admiration For Some Of Their Adherents, Whatever Historical Or Biological Necessity I See In Them, Whatever Metaphorical Truth, I Cannot Accept Them As Credible Explanations Of Reality; And They Are Incredible To Me In Proportion To The Degree That They Require My Belief In Positive Human Attributes And Intervenient Powers In Their Divinities.

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

Duty Is But A Pot. It Holds Whatever Is Put In It, From The Greatest Evil To The Greatest Good.

Duty Largely Consists Of Pretending That The Trivial Is Critical.

Hazard Has Conditioned Us To Live In Hazard. All Our Pleasures Are Dependent On It. Even Though I Arrange For A Pleasure, And Look Forward To It, My Eventual Enjoyment Of It Is Still A Matter Of Hazard. Wherever Time Passes, There Is Hazard.