It Is An Old Habit With Theologians

Why Should We Postpone Our Joy To Another World? Let Us Get All We Can Of The Good Between The Cradle And The Grave, All That We Can Of The Truly Dramatic. If, When Death Comes, That Is The End, We Have At Least Made The Best Of This Life.

When I Became Convinced That The Universe Is Natural, That All The Ghosts And Gods Are Myths, There Entered Into My Brain, Into My Soul, Into Every Drop Of My Blood The Sense, The Feeling, The Joy Of Freedom. The Walls Of My Prison Crumbled And Fell. The Dungeon Was Flooded With Light And All The Bolts And Bars And Manacles Became Dust.

I Thank Thee, Mother Nature, That Thou Hast Put Ingenuity Enough In The Brain Of A Child, When Attacked By A Brutal Parent, To Throw Up A Little Breastwork In The Shape Of A Lie.

The Churches Have No Confidence In Each Other. Why? Because They Are Acquainted With Each Other.

For Ages, A Deadly Conflict Has Been Waged Between A Few Brave Men And Women Of Thought And Genius Upon The One Side, And The Great Ignorant Religious Mass On The Other. This Is The War Between Science And Faith. The Few Have Appealed To Reason, To Honor, To Law, To Freedom, To The Known, And To Happiness Here In This World. The Many Have Appealed To Prejudice, To Fear, To Miracle, To Slavery, To The Unknown, And To Misery Hereafter. The Few Have Said "think" The Many Have Said "believe!"