Sleep With Me Sleep With My Dogs-

The Middle Class, That Prisoner Of The Barbarian 20th Century.

I Think Perhaps We Want A More Conscious Life. We're Tired Of Drudging And Sleeping And Dying. We're Tired Of Seeing Just A Few People Able To Be Individualists. We're Tired Of Always Deferring Hope Till The Next Generation. We're Tired Of Hearing Politicians And Priests And Cautious Reformers... Coax Us, 'be Calm! Be Patient! Wait! We Have The Plans For A Utopia Already Made; Just Wiser Than You.' For Ten Thousand Years They've Said That. We Want Our Utopia Now — And We're Going To Try Our Hands At It.

Fine, Large, Meaningless, General Terms Like Romance And Business Can Always Be Related. They Take The Place Of Thinking, And Are Highly Useful To Optimists And Lecturers.

I Have For Myself No Conceivable Complaint To Make, And Yet For American Literature In General, And Its Standing In A Country Where Industrialism And Finance And Science Flourish And The Only Arts That Are Vital And Respected Are Architecture And The Film, I Have A Considerable Complaint.

Good Lord, I Don't Know What 'rights' A Man Has! And I Don't Know The Solution Of Boredom. If I Did, I'd Be The One Philosopher That Had The Cure For Living. But I Do Know That About Ten Times As Many People Find Their Lives Dull, And Unnecessarily Dull, As Ever Admit It; And I Do Believe That If We Busted Out And Admitted It Sometimes, Instead Of Being Nice And Patient And Loyal For Sixty Years, And Then Nice And Patient And Dead For The Rest Of Eternity, Why, Maybe, Possibly, We Might Make Life More Fun.