In Western Civilization, The Period Ruled By

Collectivism Holds That The Individual Has No Rights, That His Life And Work Belong To The Group (to "society," To The Tribe, The State, The Nation) And That The Group May Sacrifice Him At Its Own Whim To Its Own Interests. The Only Way To Implement A Doctrine Of That Kind Is By Means Of Brute Force - And Statism Has Always Been The Poltical Corollary Of Collectivism.

Honesty Is The Recognition Of The Fact That The Unreal Is Unreal And Can Have No Value, That Neither Love Nor Fame Nor Cash Is A Value If Obtained By Fraud.

Contradictions Do Not Exist. Whenever You Think You Are Facing A Contradiction, Check Your Premises. You Will Find That One Of Them Is Wrong.

But You See," Said Roark Quietly, "i Have, Let’s Say, Sixty Years To Live. Most Of That Time Will Be Spent Working. I’ve Chosen The Work I Want To Do. If I Find No Joy In It, Then I’m Only Condemning Myself To Sixty Years Of Torture. And I Can Find The Joy Only If I Do My Work In The Best Way Possible To Me. But The Best Is A Matter Of Standards—and I Set My Own Standards. I Inherit Nothing. I Stand At The End Of No Tradition. I May, Perhaps, Stand At The Beginning Of One.

It's Not That I Don't Suffer, It's That I Know The Unimportance Of Suffering. I Know That Pain Is To Be Fought And Thrown Aside, Not To Be Accepted As Part Of One's Soul And As A Permanent Scar Across One's View Of Existence.