It Seems To Me That If There

I Do Not Believe In Loving Enemies; I Have Pretty Hard Work To Love My Friends. Neither Do I Believe In Revenge. No Man Can Afford To Keep The Viper Of Revenge In His Heart. But I Believe In Justice, In Self-defense.

He Was A Worshiper Of Liberty, A Friend Of The Oppressed. A Thousand Times I Have Heard Him Quote These Words: 'for Justice All Place A Temple, And All Season, Summer.' He Believed That Happiness Is The Only Good, Reason The Only Torch, Justice The Only Worship, Humanity The Only Religion, And Love The Only Priest. He Added To The Sum Of Human Joy; And Were Every One To Whom He Did Some Loving Service To Bring A Blossom To His Grave, He Would Sleep Tonight Beneath A Wilderness Of Flowers. . . .

All Religions Are Inconsistent With Mental Freedom. Shakespeare Is My Bible, Burns My Hymn-book.

The Real Searcher After Truth Will Not Receive The Old Because It Is Old, Or Reject The New Because It Is New. He Will Not Believe Men Because They Are Dead, Or Contradict Them Because They Are Alive. With Him An Utterance Is Worth The Truth, The Reason It Contains, Without The Slightest Regard To The Author. He May Have Been A King Or Serf - A Philosopher Or Servant, - But The Utterance Neither Gains Nor Loses In Truth Or Reason. Its Value Is Absolutely Independent Of The Fame Or Station Of The Man Who Gave It To The World.

Reason Is The Light, The Sun Of The Brain. It Is The Compass Of The Mind, The Ever-constant Northern Star, The Mountain Peak That Lifts Itself Above All Clouds.