We Are All Familiar With

Art Is The One Form Of Human Energy In The Whole World, Which Really Works For Union, And Destroys The Barriers Between Man And Man. It Is The Continual, Unconscious Replacement, However Fleeting, Of Oneself By Another; The Real Cement Of Human Life; The Everlasting Refreshment And Renewal. For, What Is Grievous, Dompting, Grim, About Our Lives Is That We Are Shut Up Within Ourselves, With An Itch To Get Outside Ourselves. And To Be Stolen Away From Ourselves By Art Is A Momentary Relaxation From That Itching, A Minute's Profound, And As It Were Secret, Enfranchisement.

Only Out Of Stir And Change Is Born New Salvation. To Deny That Is To Deny Belief In Man, To Turn Our Backs On Courage!

Wealth Is A Means To An End, Not The End Itself. As A Synonym For Health And Happiness, It Has Had A Fair Trial And Failed Dismally.

Come! Let Us Lay A Lance In Rest, And Tilt At Windmills Under A Wild Sky! For Who Would Live So Petty And Unblest That Dare Not Tilt At Something Ere He Die; Rather Than, Screened By Safe Majority, Preserve His Little Life To Little End, And Never Raise A Rebel Cry!

Humanism Is The Creed Of Those Who Believe That In The Circle Of Enwrapping Mystery, Men's Fates Are In Their Own Hands - A Faith That For Modern Man Is Becoming The Only Possible Faith.