We Must Complain. Yes, Plain, Blunt Complaint,

The Music Of An Unhappy People, Of The Children Of Disappointment; They Tell Of Death And Suffering And Unvoiced Longing Toward A Truer World, Of Misty Wanderings And Hidden Ways.

One Thing Alone I Charge You. As You Live, Believe In Life! Always Human Beings Will Live And Progress To Greater, Broader And Fuller Life. The Only Possible Death Is To Lose Belief In This Truth Simply Because The Great End Comes Slowly, Because Time Is Long.

Half The Christian Churches Of New York Are Trying To Ruin The Free Public Schools In Order To Replace Them By Religious Dogma.

Herein Lies The Tragedy Of The Age: Not That Men Are Poor, - All Men Know Something Of Poverty. Not That Men Are Wicked, - Who Is Good? Not That Men Are Ignorant, - What Is Truth? Nay, But That Men Know So Little Of Men.

The World Still Wants To Ask That A Woman Primarily Be Pretty And If She Is Not, The Mob Pouts And Asks Querulously, 'what Else Are Women For?