There Is No Part Of Me That

This Complaining Rambling Rubbish Is The Substitute Which Has Taken The Place Of Love.

Astrology Has No More Useful Function Than This, To Discover The Inmost Nature Of A Man And To Bring It Out Into His Consciousness, That He May Fulfil It According To The Law Of Light.

For Pure Will, Unassuaged Of Purpose, Delivered From The Lust Of Result, Is Every Way Perfect.

Adaptation To One's Environment Makes For A Sort Of Survival; But After All, The Supreme Victory Is Only Won By Those Who Prove Themselves Of So Much Hardier Stuff Than The Rest That No Power On Earth Is Able To Destroy Them. The People Who Have Really Made History Are The Martyrs.

What Is It In Absinthe That Makes It A Separate Cult? The Effects Of Its Abuse Are Totally Distinct From Those Of Other Stimulants. Even In Ruin And In Degradation It Remains A Thing Apart: Its Victims Wear A Ghastly Aureole All Their Own, And In Their Peculiar Hell Yet Gloat With A Sinister Perversion Of Pride That They Are Not As Other Men.