There Are Some Dead Who Are More

Let Us Return To Our Eagle's Nest In The Himalayas. It Is Waiting For Us, For It Is Ours, Eaglets Of Europe, We Need Not Renounce Any Part Of Our Real Nature...whence We Formerly Took Our Flight.

His (swami Vivekananda) Words Are Great Music, Phrases In The Style Of Beethoven, Stirring Rhythms Like The March Of Handel Choruses. I Cannot Touch These Sayings Of His, Scattered As They Are Through The Pages Of Books, At Thirty Years' Distance, Without Receiving A Thrill Through My Body Like An Electric Shock. And What Shocks, What Transports, Must Have Been Produced When In Burning Words They Issued From The Lips Of The Hero!

I Find War Detestable But Those Who Praise It Without Participating In It Even More So.

Thousands Of Animals (now Billions) Are Butchered Every Day Without A Shadow Of Remorse. It Cries Vengeance Upon All The Human Race.

Every Race, Every Art Has Its Hypocrisy. The World Is Fed With A Little Truth And Many Lies.