History Is Only A Value Of Relation.

Every Syllable That Can Be Struck Out Is Pure Profit, And Every Page That Can Be Economised Is A Five-per-cent Dividend. Nature Rebels Against This Rule; The Flesh Is Weak, And Shrinks From The Scissors; I Groan In Retrospect Over The Weak.

We Shall Some Day Catch An Abstract Truth By The Tail, And Then We Shall Have Our Religion And Our Immortality.

Modern Politics Is, At Bottom, A Struggle Not Of Men But Of Forces. The Men Become Every Year More And More Creatures Of Force, Massed About Central Powerhouses. The Conflict Is No Longer Between The Men, But Between The Motors That Drive The Men, And The Men Tend To Succumb To Their Own Motive Forces.

There Are Two Things That Seem To Be At The Bottom Of Our Constitutions; One Is A Continual Tendency Towards Politics; The Other Is Family Pride; And It Is Strange How These Two Feelings Run Through All Of Us.

Man Always Made, And Still Makes, Grotesque Blunders In Selecting And Measuring Forces, Taken At Random From The Heap, But He Never Made A Mistake In The Value He Set On The Whole, Which He Symbolized As Unity And Worshipped As God. To This Day, His Attitude Towards It Has Never Changed, Though Science Can No Longer Give To Force A Name.