Nothing Is So Loved By Tyrants As

We Know Life Is Futile. A Man Who Considers That His Life Is Of Very Wonderful Importance Is Awfully Close To A Padded Cell.

It Is Not For The World To Judge, But To Crown Them All Alike. Each And All Lived Out Their Own Being, Did Their Work In Their Own Way, And Carried A Reluctant, Stupid Humanity To Greater Possibilities And Grander Heights.

The Really Intelligent Are As Abnormal As The Defective. The Great Masses Of Men Are Rather Mediocre, And Those Above And Below Are Exceptions.

Great Wealth Often Curses All Who Touch It.

In Spite Of All The Yearnings Of Men, No One Can Produce A Single Fact Or Reason To Support The Belief In God And In Personal Immortality.