My Mistake Was In Ever Opening The

The Human Race Is Doomed To Sink Back Farther And Farther Into The Primitive Night Ere Again It Begins Its Bloody Climb Upward To Civilization.

But It Did Not All Happen In A Day, This Giving Over Of Himself, Body And Soul, To The Man-animals. He Could Not Immediately Forego His Wild Heritage And His Memories Of The Wild. There Were Days When He Crept To The Edge Of The Forest And Stood And Listened To Something Calling Him Far And Away.

He Was Justifying His Existence, Than Which Life Can Do No Greater; For Life Achieves Its Summit When It Does To The Uttermost That Which It Was Equipped To Do.

A Bone To The Dog Is Not Charity. Charity Is The Bone Shared With The Dog, When You Are Just As Hungry As The Dog.

A Good Soldier Is A Blind, Heartless, Soulless, Murderous Machine. He Is Not A Man. His Is Not A Brute, For Brutes Kill Only In Self Defense. All That Is Human In Him, All That Is Divine In Him, All That Constitutes The Man Has Been Sworn Away When He Took The Enlistment Roll. His Mind, His Conscience, Aye, His Very Soul, Are In The Keeping Of His Officer. No Man Can Fall Lower Than A Soldier-it Is A Depth Beneath Which We Cannot Go.