In Books Lies The Soul Fo The

There Is A Great Discovery Still To Be Made In Literature, That Of Paying Literary Men By The Quantity They Do Not Write.

Is Not Cant The Materia Prima Of The Devil, From Which All Falsehoods, Imbecilities, Abominations, Body Themselves, From Which No True Thing Can Come? For Cant Is Itself The Properly A Double-distilled Lie, The Second Power Of A Lie.

The Modern Majesty Consists In Work. What A Man Can Do Is His Greatest Ornament, And He Always Consults His Dignity By Doing It.

Oh, Give Us The Man Who Sings At His Work.

Worship Of A Hero Is Transcendent Admiration Of A Great Man.