Nature Will Not Be Buddhist: She Resents

The Secret Of Fortune Is Joy In Our Hands. Welcome Evermore To Gods And Men Is The Self-helping Man. For Him All Doors Are Flung Wide. Him All Tongues Greet, All Honors Crown, All Eyes Follow With Desire. Our Love Goes Out To Him And Embraces Him Because He Did Not Need It.

Who Is He That Shall Control Me? Why May Not I Act And Speak And Write And Think With Entire Freedom? What Am I To The Universe, Or, The Unvierse, What Is It To Me? Who Hath Forged The Chains Of Wrong And Right, Of Opinion And Custom? And Must I Wear Them?

What Terrible Questions We Are Learning To Ask! The Former Men Believed In Magic, By Which Temples, Cities, And Men Were Swallowed Up, And All Trace Of Them Gone. We Are Coming On The Secret Of A Magic Which Sweeps Out Of Men's Minds All Vestige Of Theism And Beliefs Which They And Their Fathers Held And Were Framed Upon.

My Life Should Be Unique; It Should Be An Alms, A Battle, A Conquest, A Medicine.

The Believing We Do Something When We Do Nothing Is The First Illusion Of Tobacco.