It Is Not Fools That I Seek

When I Disagree With A Rational Man, I Let Reality Be Our Final Arbiter; If I Am Right, He Will Learn; If I Am Wrong, I Will; One Of Us Will Win, But Both Will Profit.

The Adversary She Found Herself Forced To Fight Was Not Worth Matching Or Beating; It Was Not A Superior Ability Which She Would Have Found Honour In Challenging; It Was Ineptitude - A Grey Spread Of Cotton That Seemed Soft And Shapeless, That Could Offer No Resistance To Anything Or Anybody, Yet Managed To Be A Barrier In Her Way. She Stood, Disarmed, Before The Riddle Of What Made This Possible, She Could Find No Answer.

They Talked About Nothing In Particular, Sentences That Had Meaning Only In The Sound Of The Voices, In Warm Gaiety, In The Ease Of Complete Relaxation.

It's So Graceless, Being A Martyr. It's Honoring Your Adversaries Too Much.

Man's Basic Vice, The Source Of All His Evils, Is The Act Of Unfocusing His Mind, The Suspension Of His Consciousness, Which Is Not Blindness, But The Refusal To See, Not Ignorance, But The Refusal To Know.