I Am Alone. There Is No God

Man Has The Right . . . To Play As He Will . . . To Think What He Will: To Speak What He Will: To Write What He Will: To Draw, Paint, Carve, Etch, Mould, Build As He Will: To Dress As He Will.

He Shall Fall Down Into A Pit Called Because, And There He Shall Perish With The Dogs Of Reason.

Truth! Truth! Truth! Crieth The Lord Of The Abyss Of Hallucinations

As Soon As You Put Men Together, They Somehow Sink, Corporatively, Below The Level Of The Worst Of The Individuals Composing It. Collect Scholars On A Club Committee, Or Men Of Science On A Jury; All Their Virtues Vanish, And Their Vices Pop Out, Reinforced By The Self-confidence Which The Power Of Numbers Is Bound To Bestow.

It Is Necessary, In This World, To Be Made Of Harder Stuff Than One's Environment.