If The Property Belongs To God He

All Prayers Die In The Air Which They Uselessly Agitate.

Superstition Is, Always Has Been, And Forever Will Be, The Foe Of Progress, The Enemy Of Education And The Assassin Of Freedom.

One Laugh Of A Child Will Make The Holiest Day More Sacred Still.

I Admit That Reason Is A Small And Feeble Flame, A Flickering Torch By Stumblers Carried In The Star-less Night, - Blown And Flared By Passion's Storm, - And Yet, It Is The Only Light. Extinguish That, And Nought Remains.

The More False We Destroy, The More Room There Will Be For The True.