It's The Person Who Would Sell His

The Writer Who Develops A Beautiful Style, But Has Nothing To Say, Represents A Kind Of Arrested Esthetic Development; He Is Like A Pianist Who Acquires A Brilliant Technique By Playing Finger-exercises, But Never Gives A Concert.

Every Period Ruled By Mystics Was An Era Of Stagnation And Want, When Most Men Were On Strike Against Existence.

The Fortune My Spirit Is Not To Be Blown Into Coins Of Brass And Flung To The Winds As Alms For The Poor Of The Spirit. I Guard My Treasures: My Thought, My Will, My Freedom. And The Greatest Of These Is Freedom.

Mr. Ward, What Is It That The Foulest Bastards On Earth Denounce Us For, Among Other Things? Oh Yes, For Our Motto Of 'business As Usual.' Well-business As Usual, Mr. Ward!

For They Have Nothing To Fight Me With, Save The Brute Force Of Their Numbers. I Have My Mind.