False Gods Must Be Repudiated, But That

I Am Truly Horrified By Modern Man. Such Absence Of Feeling, Such Narrowness Of Outlook, Such Lack Of Passion And Information, Such Feebleness Of Thought.

A Generation Which Has Passed Through The Shop Has Absorbed Standards And Ambitions Which Are Not Of Those Of Spaciousness, And Cannot Get Away From Them. Everything With Them Is Done As Though For Sale, And They Naturally Have In View The Greatest Possible Benefit, Profit And That End Of The Stuff That Will Make The Best Show.

Strong Drink Stupefies A Man And Makes It Possible For Him To Forget; It Gives Him An Artificial Cheeriness, An Artificial Excitement; And The Pleasure Of This State Is Increased By The Low Level Of Civilization And The Narrow Empty Life To Which These Men Are Confined.

Slavery Is The First Step Towards Civilization. In Order To Develop It Is Necessary That Things Should Be Much Better For Some And Much Worse For Others, Then Those Who Are Better Off Can Develop At The Expense Of Others.

Every Man Who Has Lived For Fifty Years Has Buried A Whole World Or Even Two; He Has Grown Used To Its Disappearance And Accustomed To The New Scenery Of Another Act: But Suddenly The Names And Faces Of A Time Long Dead Appear More And More Often On His Way, Calling Up Series Of Shades And Pictures Kept Somewhere, "just In Case," In The Endless Catacombs Of The Memory, Making Him Smile Or Sigh, And Sometimes Almost Weep.