I Must Seem Like An Ostrich Who

The Tragedy Of Life Is What Dies In The Hearts And Souls Of People While They Live.

This Subject Brings Me To That Vilest Offspring Of The Herd Mind -- The Odious Militia. The Man Who Enjoys Marching In Line And File To The Strains Of Music Falls Below My Contempt; He Received His Great Brain By Mistake -- The Spinal Cord Would Have Been Amply Sufficient. This Heroism At Command, This Senseless Violence, This Accursed Bombast Of Patriotism -- How Intensely I Despise Them! War Is Low And Despicable, And I Had Rather Be Smitten To Shreds Than Participate In Such Doings.

It Is Our American Habit If We Find The Foundations Of Our Educational Structure Unsatisfactory To Add Another Story Or Wing. We Find It Easier To Add A New Study Or Course Or Kind Of School Than To Recognize Existing Conditions So As To Meet The Need. Strangled The Holy Curious Of Inquiry. It Is A Very Grave Mistake To Think That The Enjoyment Of Seeing And Searching Can Be Promoted By Means Of Coercion And A Sense Of Duty.

I Cannot Conceive Of A Personal God Who Would Directly Influence The Actions Of Individuals, Or Would Directly Sit In Judgment On Creatures Of His Own Creation.

Was Wirklich Zählt, Ist Intuition