Perpetual Modernism Is The Measure Of Merit

Speak Your Latent Conviction. . . Else Tomorrow A Stranger Will Say With Masterly Good Sense Precisely What We Have Thought And Felt All The Time, And We Shall Be Forced To Take With Shame Our Own Opinion From Another.

I Find Nothing Healthful Or Exalting In The Smooth Conventions Of Society. I Do Not Like The Close Air Of Saloons. I Begin To Suspect Myself To Be A Prisoner, Though Treated With All This Courtesy And Luxury. I Pay A Destructive Tax In My Conformity.

The Kitchen Clock Is More Convenient Than Sidereal Time. We Must Use The Popular Category, As We Do By The Linnæan Classification, For Convenience, And Not As Exact And Final. Otherwise, We Are Presently Confounded, When The Best-settled Traits Of One Race Are Claimed By Some New Ethnologist As Precisely Characteristic Of The Rival Tribe.

Don't Be A Cynic, And Bewail And Bemoan. Omit The Negative Propositions. Don't Waste Yourself In Rejection, Nor Bark Against The Bad, But Chant The Beauty Of The Good. Set Down Nothing That Will Help Somebody.

The Cannon Will Not Suffer Any Other Sound To Be Heard For Miles And For Years Around It.