The Greatest Of The Arts Is The

He Was Not Immoral, But Merely Unmoral.

The Life That Is Demanding To Be Born Is Limitless. Nature Is A Spendthrift. Look At The Fish And Their Millions Of Eggs. For That Matter, Look At You And Me. In Our Loins Are The Possibilities Of Millions Of Lives. Could We But Find Time And Opportunity And Utilize The Last Bit And Every Bit Of The Unborn Life That Is In Us, We Could Become The Fathers Of Nations And Populate Continents.

Pictures! Pictures! Pictures! Often, Before I Learned, Did I Wonder Whence Came The Multitudes Of Pictures That Thronged My Dreams; For They Were Pictures The Like Of Which I Had Never Seen In Real Wake-a-day Life. They Tormented My Childhood, Making Of My Dreams A Procession Of Nightmares And A Little Later Convincing Me That I Was Different From My Kind, A Creature Unnatural And Accursed.

With The Aurora Borealis Flaming Coldly Overhead, Or The Stars Leaping In The Frost Dance, And The Land Numb And Frozen Under Its Pall Of Snow, This Song Of The Huskies Might Have Been The Defiance Of Life, Only It Was Pitched In Minor Key, With Long-drawn Wailings And Half-sobs, And Was More The Pleading Of Life, The Articulate Travail Of Existence. It Was An Old Song, Old As The Breed Itself--one Of The First Songs Of The Younger World In A Day When Songs Were Sad.

Life Creeps Slowly Upward.... When Some Forgotten Inventor Of The Older World Smote His Rival Or Enemy With A Branch Of Wood And Found That It Was Good And Thereafter Made A Practice Of Smiting Rivals And Enemies With Branches Of Wood, Then, And On That Day, Artificiality May Be Said To Have Begun. Then, And On That Day, Was Begun A Revolution Destined To Change The History Of Life. Then, And On That Day, Was Laid The Cornerstone Of That Most Tremendous Of Artifices, Civilization!