But The Devil Is A Subtle Worm;

Dad, As A Good American, Believed His Newspapers.

I Don't Know Whether Anyone Will Care To Examine My Heart, But If They Do, They Will Find Two Words There- 'social Justice.' For That Is What I Have Believed In And Fought For.

The Proletarian Writer Is A Writer With A Purpose; He Thinks No More Of Art For Art's Sake Than A Man On A Sinking Ship Thinks Of Painting A Beautiful Picture In The Cabin; He Thinks Of Getting Ashore - And Then There Will Be Time Enough For Art.

It Was All So Very Businesslike That One Watched It Fascinated. It Was Pork-making By Machinery, Pork-making By Applied Mathematics. And Yet Somehow The Most Matter-of-fact Person Could Not Help Thinking Of The Hogs; They Were So Innocent, They Came So Very Trustingly; And They Were So Very Human In Their Protests - And So Perfectly Within Their Rights! They Had Done Nothing To Deserve It; And It Was Adding Insult To Injury, As The Thing Was Done Here, Swinging Them Up In This Cold-blooded, Impersonal Way, Without Pretence At Apology, Without The Homage Of A Tear.

The First Thing Brought Forth By The Study Of Any Religion, Ancient Or Modern, Is That It Is Based Upon Fear, Born Of It, Fed By It — And That It Cultivates The Source From Which Its Nourishment Is Derived.