Kill Or Be Killed, Eat Or Be

Thus It Was That In Obedience To The Law Laid Down By His Mother, And In Obedience To The Law Of That Unknown And Nameless Thing, Fear, He Kept Away From The Mouth Of The Cave.

To Have A Full Stomach, To Daze Lazily In The Sunshine--such Things Were Remuneration In Full For His Adors And Toils, While His Ardors And Toils Were In Themselves Self-remunerative. They Were Expressions Of Life, And Life Is Always Happy When It Is Expressing Itself.

The Trouble With Him Was That He Was Without Imagination. He Was Quick And Alert In The Things Of Life, But Only In The Things, And Not In The Significances. Fifty Degrees Below Zero Meant Eighty-odd Degrees Of Frost. Such Fact Impressed Him As Being Cold And Uncomfortable, And That Was All. It Did Not Lead Him To Meditate Upon His Frailty As A Creature Of Temperature, And Upon Man's Frailty In General, Able Only To Live Within Certain Narrow Limits Of Heat And Cold; And From There On It Did Not Lead Him To The Conjectural Field Of Immortality And Man's Place In The Universe.

It Is A Simple Matter To See The Obvious, To Do The Expected. The Tendency Of The Individual Life Is To Be Static Rather Than Dynamic, And This Tendency Is Made Into A Propulsion By Civilization, Where The Obvious Only Is Seen, And The Unexpected Rarely Happens. When The Unexpected Does Happen, However, And When It Is Of Sufficiently Grave Import, The Unfit Perish. They Do Not See What Is Not Obvious, Are Unable To Do The Unexpected, Are Incapable Of Adjusting Their Well-grooved Lives To Other And Strange Grooves. In Short, When They Come To The End Of Their Own Groove, They Die.

I'd Rather Sing One Wild Song And Burst My Heart With It, Than Live A Thousand Years Watching My Digestion And Being Afraid Of The Wet.