Three Generations Of Imbeciles Are Enough.

There Is Something Frightful In The Way In Which Not Only Characteristic Qualities, But Particular Manifestations Of Them, Are Repeated From Generation To Generation.

The Joy Of Life Is To Put Out One's Power In Some Natural And Useful Or Harmless Way. There Is No Other. And The Real Misery Is Not To Do This.

I Know Of No Teachers So Powerful And Persuasive As The Little Army Of Specialists. They Carry No Banners, They Beat No Drums; But Where They Are Men Learn That Bustle And Push Are Not The Equals Of Quiet Genius And Serene Mastery.

I Think It Not Improbable That Man, Like The Grub That Prepares A Chamber For The Winged Thing It Never Has Seen But Is To Be - That Man May Have Cosmic Destinies That He Does Not Understand.

It Is Perfectly Easy To Be Original By Violating The Laws Of Decency And The Canons Of Good Taste.