The Greatest Of The Arts Is 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.

Our Ape-like And Arboreal Ancestors Entered Upon The First Of Many Short Cuts. To Crack A Marrow-bone With A Rock Was The Act Which Fathered The Tool, And Between The Cracking Of A Marrow-bone And The Riding Down Town In An Automobile Lies Only A Difference Of Degree.

The Man, With His Brain, Can Pierce The Intoxicating Mirage Of Things And Contemplate A Frozen Universe In The Most Perfect Indifference To Him And His Dreams.

For The Pride Of Trace And Trail Was His, And Sick Unto Death, He Could Not Bear That Another Dog Should Do His Work.

I Was Five Years Old The First Time I Got Drunk.