If Mankind Is To Escape Its Programmed

Idealism And Science Continue To Function In Separate Compartments; And Yet 'the Happiness Of Man On Earth' Depends Upon Their Combination.

Every New Baby Is A Blind Desperate Vote For Survival: People Who Find Themselves Unable To Register An Effective Political Protest Against Extermination Do So By A Biological Act.

The Very People Who Shudder Over The Cruelty Of The Hunter Are Apt To Forget That Slaughter, In The Grimmest Sense Of The Word, Is A Process They Entrust Daily To The Butcher; And That Unlike The Game Of The Forests, Even The Dumbest Creatures Of The Slaughterhouse Know What Is In Store For Them.

Every Transformation Of Humanity Has Rested Upon Deep Stirrings And Intuitions, Whose Rationalized Expression Takes The Form Of A New Picture Of The Cosmos And The Nature Of The Human.

Adventure Is Humdrum And Routine Unless One Assimilates It, Unless One Relates It To A Central Core Which Grows Within And Gives It Contour And Significance. Raw Experience Is Empty, Just As Empty As The Forecastle Of A Whaler As In A Chamber Of A Counting House; For It Is Not What One Does, But In A Manifold Sense, What One Realizes That Keeps Existence From Being Vain And Trivial.