The Nearer You Come Into

One Of The Eternal Conflicts Out Of Which Life Is Made Up Is That Between The Effort Of Every Man To Get The Most He Can For His Services, And That Of Society, Disguised Under The Name Of Capital, To Get His Services For The Least Possible Return.

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

Under Bad Manners, As Under Graver Faults, Lies Very Commonly An Overestimate Of Our Special Individuality, As Distinguished From Our Generic Humanity.

Detached Reflection Cannot Be Demanded In The Presence Of An Uplifted Knife.

To Rest Upon A Formula Is A Slumber That, Prolonged, Means Death.