The Great Fault In Women Is To

In The Works Of Man, Everything Is As Poor As Its Author; Vision Is Confined, Means Are Limited, Scope Is Restricted, Movements Are Labored, And Results Are Humdrum.

All Grandeur, All Power, And All Subordination To Authority Rests On The Executioner: He Is The Horror And The Bond Of Human Association. Remove This Incomprehensible Agent From The World And At That Very Moment Order Gives Way To Chaos, Thrones Topple And Society Disappears.

In A Democracy People Get The Leaders They Deserve.

War Is Thus Divine In Itself, Since It Is A Law Of The World. War Is Divine Through Its Consequences Of A Supernatural Nature Which Are As Much General As Particular. War Is Divine In The Mysterious Glory That Surrounds It And In The No Less Inexplicable Attraction That Draws Us To It. War Is Divine By The Manner In Which It Breaks Out.

Man Is So Muddled, So Dependent On The Things Immediately Before His Eyes, That Every Day Even The Most Submissive Believer Can Be Seen To Risk The Torments Of The Afterlife For The Smallest Pleasure.