A Man Must Indeed Be A Hero

A Man Perfects Himself By Working. Foul Jungles Are Cleared Away, Fair Seed-fields Rise Instead, And Stately Cities; And With The Man Himself First Ceases To Be A Jungle, And Foul Unwholesome Desert Thereby. The Man Is Now A Man.

All Destruction, By Violent Revolution Or However It Be, Is But New Creation On A Wider Scale.

He Who Would Write Heroic Poems Should Make His Whole Life A Heroic Poem.

Intellect Is The Soul Of Man, The Only Immortal Part Of Him.

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.