Christianity Is A Formula: It Is Nothing

Charity Is A Flower Not Naturally Of Earthly Growth, And It Needs Manuring With A Promise Of Profit.

There Is No More Terrible Woe Upon Earth Than The Woe Of The Stricken Brain, Which Remembers The Days Of Its Strength, The Living Light Of Its Reason, The Sunrise Of Its Proud Intelligence, And Knows That These Have Passed Away Like A Tale That Is Told.

Who Has Passed By The Fates Of Disillusion Has Died Twice.

The Bread Of Bitterness Is The Food On Which Men Grow To Their Fullest Stature; The Waters Of Bitterness Are The Debatable Ford Through Which They Reach The Shores Of Wisdom; The Ashes Boldly Grasped And Eaten Without Faltering Are The Price That Must Be Paid For The Golden Fruit Of Knowledge.

Fancy Tortures More People Than Does Reality