Youth Without Faith Is A Day Without

We Do Not Want To Think. We Do Not Want To Hear. We Do Not Care About Anything. Only Give Us A Good Dinner And Plenty Of Money, And Let Us Outshine Our Neighbors. There Is The Nineteenth Century Gospel.

Age Is Nothing But Death That Is Conscious.

Charity In Various Guises Is An Intruder The Poor See Often; But Courtesy And Delicacy Are Visitants With Which They Are Seldom Honored.

There Is A Chord In Every Heart That Has A Sigh In It If Touched Aright.

Love, The One Supreme, Unceasing Source Of Human Felicity, The One Sole Joy Which Lifts The Whole Mortal Existence Into The Empyrean, Was By It [christianity] Degraded Into The Mere Mechanical Action Of Reproduction.