Good Taste" Is A Virtue

Are Wars... Anything But The Means Whereby A Nation's Problems Are Set, Where Creation Is Stimulated - There You Have Adventure. But There Is No Adventure In Heads-or-tails, In Betting That The Toss Will Come Out Of Life Or Death. War Is Not An Adventure. It Is A Disease. It Is Like Typhus.

I Know A Planet Where There Is A Certain Red-faced Gentleman. He Has Never Smelled A Flower. He Has Never Looked At A Star. He Has Never Loved Any One. He Has Never Done Anything In His Life But Add Up Figures. And All Day He Says Over And Over, Just Like You: 'i Am Busy With Matters Of Consequence!' And That Makes Him Swell Up With Pride. But He Is Not A Man - He Is A Mushroom!

He Who Is Different From Me Does Not Impoverish Me - He Enriches Me. Our Unity Is Constituted In Something Higher Than Ourselves - In Man... For No Man Seeks To Hear His Own Echo, Or To Find His Reflection In The Glass.

I Have Always Learned To Distinguish The Important From The Urgent.

If Some One Loves A Flower Of Which Just One Example Exists Among All The Millions And Millions Of Stars, That's Enough To Make Him Happy When He Looks At The Stars. He Tells Himself, "my Flower's Up There Somewhere. . . ." But If The Sheep Eats The Flower, Then For Him It's As If, Suddenly, All The Stars Went Out. And That Isn't Important?