No Man Fully Capable Of His Own

Every Man To Whom Salvation Is Offered Has An Inalienable Natural Right To Say 'no, Thank You: I Prefer To Retain My Full Moral Responsibility: It Is Not Good For Me To Be Able To Load A Scapegoat With My Sins: I Should Be Less Careful How I Committed Them If I Knew They Would Cost Me Nothing.

All Sorts Of Bodily Diseases Are Produced By Half-used Minds.

Any Belief Worth Having Must Survive Doubt

Even Under The Most Perfect Social Democracy We Should, Without Communism, Still Be Living Like Hogs, Except That Each Hog Would Get His Fair Share Of Grub.... Whilst We Are Hogs, Let Us At Least Be Well-fed, Healthy, Reciprocally Useful Hogs, Instead Of--well, Instead Of The Sort We Are At Present.

When I See That The Nineteenth Century Has Crowned The Idolatry Of Art With The Deification Of Love, So That Every Poet Is Supposed To Have Pierced To The Holy Of Holies When He Has Announced That Love Is The Supreme, Or The Enough, Or The All, I Feel That Art Was Safer In The Hands Of The Most Fanatical Of Cromwell's Major Generals Than It Will Be If Ever It Gets Into Mine.