Macbeth's Self-justifications Were Feeble - And His

Do Not Pursue What Is Illusory - Property And Position: All That Is Gained At The Expense Of Your Nerves Decade After Decade, And Is Confiscated In One Fell Night. Live With A Steady Superiority Over Life - Don't Be Afraid Of Misfortune, And Do Not Yearn After Happiness; It Is, After All, All The Same: The Bitter Doesn't Last Forever, And The Sweet Never Fills The Cup To Overflowing.

In Our Country The Lie Has Become Not Just A Moral Category But A Pillar Of The State.

We Have Been Fortunate Enough To Live At A Time When Virtue, Though It Does Not Triumph, Is Nonetheless Not Always Tormented By Attack Dogs. Beaten Down, Sickly, Virtue Has Now Been Allowed To Enter In All Its Tatters And Sit In The Corner, As Long As It Doesn't Raise Its Voice.

The "october Revolution" Is A Myth Generated By The Winners, The Bolsheviks, And Swallowed Whole By Progressive Circles In The West.

Our Twentieth Century Has Proved To Be More Cruel Than Preceding Centuries, And The First Fifty Years Have Not Erased All Its Horrors. Our World Is Rent Asunder By Those Same Old Cave-age Emotions Of Greed, Envy, Lack Of Control, Mutual Hostility Which Have Picked Up In Passing Respectable Pseudonyms Like Class Struggle, Radical Conflict, Struggle Of The Masses, Trade-union Disputes.