The Class War Will Find Me On

The Forces Of The Nineteenth Century Have Run Their Course And Are Exhausted.

This Siren, This Goat-footed Bard, This Half Human Visitor To Our Age The Hag-ridden And Enchanted Woods Of Celtic Antiquity. One Catches In His Company That Flavour Of Final Purposelessness, Inner Responsibility, Existence Outside Or Away From Our Saxon Good And Evil, Mixed With Cunning, Remorselessness, Love Of Power.

It Is Astonishing What Foolish Things One Can Temporarily Believe If One Thinks Too Long Alone, Particularly In Economics.

The Key To Selecting The Winner Isn't Choosing The Face You Think Is The Most Beautiful But Rather The Face Other People Will Pick

Newton Was Not The First Of The Age Of Reason, He Was The Last Of The Magicians.