Horrible Experiences Lead Us To

Every Church Is A Stone On The Grave Of A God-man: It Does Not Want Him To Rise Up Again Under Any Circumstances.

Watch Them Clamber, These Swift Monkeys! They Clamber Over One Another And Thus Drag One Another Into The Mud And The Depth. They All Want To Get To The Throne: That Is Their Madness — As If Happiness Sat On The Throne. Often, Mud Sits On The Throne — And Often The Throne Also On Mud. Mad They All Appear To Me, Clambering Monkeys And Overardent. Foul Smells Their Idol, The Cold Monster: Foul, They Smell To Me Altogether, These Idolators.

The Beating Of Drums, Which Delights Young Writers Who Serve A Party, Sounds To Him Who Does Not Belong To The Party Line Like A Rattling Of Chains, And Excites Sympathy Rather Than Admiration.

And Nobody Lies As Much As The Indignant Do.

He Who Recites Dramatic Works Makes Discoveries About His Own Character.