Man Is Everywhere Still In Chains.

The Work Of Art... Is An Instrument For Tilling The Human Psyche, That It May Continue To Yield A Harvest Of Vital Beauty.

Art In Its Widest Sense Is The Extension Of The Personality: A Host Of Artificial Limbs.

Only A People Serving An Apprenticeship To Nature Can Be Trusted With Machines. Only Such People Will So Contrive And Control Those Machines That Their Products Are An Enhancement Of Biological Needs, And Not A Denial Of Them.

A Man Of Personality Can Formulate Ideals, But Only A Man Of Character Can Achieve Them.

But The Further Step, By Means Of Which A Civilization Is Given Its Quality Or Culture, Is Only Attained By A Process Of Cellular Division, In The Course Of Which The Individual Is Differentiated, Made Distinct From And Independent Of The Parent Group.