Turn Over The Pages Of

Can You Blame Me If I Am Pursued By The Thought Of How Much We Could Do To Remedy Social Evils, If Only We Had An Honest And Disinterested Press?

In The Twilight, It Was A Vision Of Power.

You Can't Make Somebody Understand Something If Their Salary Depends Upon Them Not Understanding It.

They Were The Triumphant And Insolent Possessors; They Had A Hall, And A Fire, And Food And Clothing And Money, And So They Might Preach To Hungry Men, And The Hungry Men Must Be Humble And Listen. They Were Trying To Save Their Souls- And Who But A Fool Could Fail To See That All That Was The Matter With Their Souls Was That They Had Not Managed To Get A Decent Existence For Their Bodies?

Over The Vast Plain I Wander, Observing A Thousand Strange And Incredible And Terrifying Manifestations Of The Bootstrap-lifting Impulse.