Life Is A Value To Be Bought

As A Cultural-intellectual Power And A Moral Ideal, Collectivism Died In World War Ii. If We Are Still Rolling In Its Direction, It Is Only By The Inertia Of A Void And The Momentum Of Disintegration. A Social Movement That Began With The Ponderous, Brain-cracking, Dialectical Constructs Of Hegel And Marx, And Ends Up With A Horde Of Morally Unwashed Children Stamping Their Foot And Shrieking: "i Want It Now Is Through."

She Smiled. She Knew She Was Dying. But It Did Not Matter Any Longer. She Had Known Something Which No Human Words Could Ever Tell And She Knew It Now. She Had Been Awaiting It And She Felt It, As If It Had Been, As If She Had Lived It. Life Had Been, If Only Because She Had Known It Could Be, And She Felt It Now As A Hymn Without Sound, Deep Under The Little Whole That Dripped Red Drops Into The Snow, Deeper Than That From Which The Red Drops Came. A Moment Or An Eternity- Did It Matter? Life, Undefeated, Existed And Could Exist. She Smiled, Her Last Smile, To So Much That Had Been Possible.

I Write - And Read - For The Sake Of The Story... My Basic Test For Any Story Is: 'would I Want To Meet These Characters And Observe These Events In Real Life? Is This Story An Experience Worth Living Through For Its Own Sake? Is The Pleasure Of Contemplating These Characters An End Itself?

A Code Of Values Accepted By Choice Is A Code Of Morality.

He Despised Causeless Affection, Just As He Despised Unearned Wealth. They Professed To Love Him For Some Unknown Reason And They Ignored All The Things For Which He Could Wish To Be Loved.