Every Life Is, More Or Less, A

The Hunter Who Accepts The Sporting Code Of Ethics Keeps His Commandments In The Greatest Solitude, With No Witness Or Audience Other Than The Sharp Peaks Of The Mountain, The Roaming Cloud, The Stern Oak, The Trembling Juniper, And The Passing Animal.

The Metaphor Is Probably The Most Fertile Power Possessed By Man

There Are, Above All, Times In Which The Human Reality, Always Mobile, Accelerates, And Bursts Into Vertiginous Speeds. Our Time Is Such A One, For It Is Made Of Descent And Fall.

That Marxism Should Triumph In Russia, Where There Is No Industry, Would Be The Greatest Contradiction That Marxism Could Undergo. But There Is No Such Contradiction, For There Is No Such Triumph. Russia Is Marxist More Or Less As The Germans Of The Holy Roman Empire Were Romans.

The Common Man, Finding Himself In A World So Excellent, Technically And Socially, Believes It Has Been Produced By Nature, And Never Thinks Of The Personal Efforts Of Highly Endowed Individuals Which The Creation Of This New World Presupposed. Still Less Will He Admit The Notion That All These Facilities Still Require The Support Of Certain Difficult Human Virtues, The Least Failure Of Which Would Cause The Rapid Disappearance Of The Whole Magnificent Edifice.