There Is In Man A Higher Than

Happy Season Of Childhood! Kind Nature, That Art To All A Bountiful Mother; That Visitest The Poor Man's Hut With Auroral Radiance; And For Thy Nursling Hast Provided A Soft Swathing Of Love And Infinite Hope Wherein He Waxes And Slumbers, Danced Round By Sweetest Dreams!

We Call It A Society; And Go About Professing Openly The Totalest Separation, Isolation. Our Life Is Not A Mutual Helpfulness; But Rather, Cloaked Under Due Laws-of-war, Named Fair Competition And So Forth, It Is A Mutual Hostility.

Democracy Will Prevail When Men Believe The Vote Of Judas As Good As That Of Jesus Christ.

O Poor Mortals, How Ye Make This Earth Bitter For Each Other.

Nothing Builds Self-esteem And Self-confidence Like Accomplishment.