I Love The Flesh. I'm A Pagan.

There's Only One Way To Make A Beginning, And That Is To Begin; And Begin With Hard Work, And Patience, Prepared For All The Disappoint­ment S.

I Love The Flesh. I'm A Pagan. "who Are They Who Speak Evil Of The Clay? The Very Stars Are Made Of Clay Like Mine!"

The First Theft Marked Buck As Fit To Survive In The Hostile Northland Environment. It Marked His Adaptability, His Capacity To Adjust Himself To Changing Conditions, The Lack Of Which Would Have Meant Swift And Terrible Death. It Marked, Further, The Decay Or Going To Pieces Of His Moral Nature, A Vain Thing And A Handicap In The Ruthless Struggle For Existence.

The Fortunate Man Is The One Who Cannot Take More Than A Couple Of Drinks Without Becoming Intoxicated. The Unfortunate Wight Is The One Who Can Take Many Glasses Without Betraying A Sign; Who Must Take Numerous Glasses In Order To Get The ‘kick’.

The Word Is Too Weak. There Is No Word In The Language Strong Enough To Describe My Feelings.