Primitive Societies Without Religion Have Never Been

Lord, For The Erring Thought Not Unto Evil Wrought: Lord, For The Wicked Will Betrayed, And Baffled Still: For The Heart From Itself Kept, Our Thanksgiving Accept. For Ignorant Hopes That Were Broken To Our Blind Prayer: For Pain, Death, Sorrow, Sent Unto Our Chastisement: For All Loss Of Seeming Good, Quicken Our Gratitude.

It Is The Curse Of Prosperity That It Takes Work Away From Us, And Shuts That Door To Hope And Health Of Spirit.

Each One Of Us Must Suffer Long To Himself Before He Can Learn That He Is But One In A Great Community Of Wretchedness Which Has Been Pitilessly Repeating Itself From The Foundation Of The World.

It's A Curious Thing, This Thing We Call Civilization...we Think It Is An Affair Of Epochs, And Nations. It's Really An Affair Of Individuals. One Brother Will Be Civilized And The Other A Barbarian...all Civilization Comes Through Literature Now, Especially In Our Country. A Greek Got His Civilization By Talking And Looking, And In Some Measure A Parisian May Still Do It. But We, Who Live Remote From History And Monuments, We Must Read Or We Must Barbarise.

The Book Which You Read From A Sense Of Duty, Or Because For Any Reason You Must, Does Not Commonly Make Friends With You.