You Cannot Be So Poor That You

In All Ages, Hypocrites, Called Priests, Have Put Crowns Upon The Heads Of Thieves, Called Kings.

One Thing I Do Know, And That Is, That Neither Hope, Nor Fear, Belief, Nor Denial, Can Change The Fact. It Is As It Is, And It Will Be As It Must Be.

Reason Is The Light, The Sun Of The Brain. It Is The Compass Of The Mind, The Ever-constant Northern Star, The Mountain Peak That Lifts Itself Above All Clouds.

If A Man Really Believes That God Once Upheld Slavery; That He Commanded Soldiers To Kill Women And Babes; That He Believed In Polygamy; That He Persecuted For Opinion's Sake; That He Will Punish Forever, And That He Hates An Unbeliever, The Effect In My Judgment Will Be Bad. It Always Has Been Bad. This Belief Built The Dungeons Of The Inquisition. This Belief Made The Puritan Murder The Quaker.

Shakespeare Was An Intellectual Ocean, Whose Waves Touched All The Shores Of Thought; Within Which Were All The Tides And Waves Of Destiny And Will; Over Which Swept All The Storms Of Fate, Ambition And Revenge; Upon Which Fell The Gloom And Darkness Of Despair And Death And All The Sunlight Of Content And Love, And Within Which Was The Inverted Sky Lit With The Eternal Stars -- An Intellectual Ocean -- Toward Which All Rivers Ran, And From Which Now The Isles And Continents Of Thought Receive Their Dew And Rain.