People Talk Fundamentals And Superlatives And Then

Our Dead Brothers And Sisters Still Live For Us And Bid Us Think Of Life, Not Death-of Life To Which In Their Youth They Lent The Passion And Glory Of Spring. As I Listen, The Great Chorus Of Life And Joy Begins Again, And Amid The Awful Orchestra Of Seen And Unseen Powers And Destinies Of Good And Evil, Our Trumpets Sound Once More A Note Of Daring, Hope, And Will.

The Mark Of A Civilized Man Is His Willingness To Re-examine His Most Cherished Beliefs.

A Good Soldier, Like A Good Horse, Cannot Be Of A Bad Color.

Detached Reflection Cannot Be Demanded In The Presence Of An Uplifted Knife.

To Be Civilized Is To Be Potentially Master Of All Possible Ideas, And That Means That One Has Got Beyond Being Shocked, Although One Preserves One's Own Moral Aesthetic Preferences.