We Talk Of Our Mastery Of Nature,

Father Expected A Good Deal Of God. He Didn't Actually Accuse God Of Inefficiency, But When He Prayed His Tone Was Loud And Angry, Like That Of A Dissatisfied Guest In A Carelessly Managed Hotel.

Knowledge Is Power. Unfortunate Dupes Of This Saying Will Keep On Creating, Ambitiously, Till They Have Stunned Their Native Initiative And Made Their Thoughts Weak.

The Artistic Impulse Seems Not To Wish To Produce Finished Work. It Certainly Deserts Us Half-way, After The Idea Is Born; And If We Go On, It Is Labor.

Every Maiden's Weak And Willin' When She Meets The Proper Villian.

It Is Possible That Our Race May Be An Accident, In A Meaningless Universe, Living Its Brief Life Uncared For, On This Dark, Cooling Star: But Even So - And All The More - What Marvelous Creatures We Are! What Fairy Story, What Tale From The Arabian Nights Of The Jinns, Is A Hundredth Part As Wonderful As This True Fairy Story Of Simians! It Is So Much More Heartening, Too, Than The Tales We Invent. A Universe Capable Of Giving Birth To Many Such Accidents Is - Blind Or Not - A Good World To Live In, A Promising Universe. . . . We Once Thought We Lived On God's Footstool, It May Be A Throne.