Trend Is Not Destiny.

Mechanical Instruments, Potentially A Vehicle Of Rational Human Purposes, Are Scarcely A Blessing When They Enable The Gossip Of The Village Idiot And The Deeds Of The Thug To Be Broadcast To A Million People Each Day.

I Would Die Happy If I Knew That On My Tombstone Could Be Written These Words, "this Man Was An Absolute Fool. None Of The Disastrous Things That He Reluctantly Predicted Ever Came To Pass!"

What Was Once Called The Objective World Is A Sort Of Rorschach Ink Blot, Into Which Each Culture, Each System Of Science And Religion, Each Type Of Personality, Reads A Meaning Only Remotely Derived From The Shape And Color Of The Blot Itself

As For The Various Kinds Of Montage Photography, They Are In Reality Not Photography At All But A Kind Of Painting In Which Photography Is Used - As Pastiches Of Textiles Are Used In Crazy-quilts - To Form A Mosaic. Whatever Value The Montage May Have Derives From Painting Rather Than The Camera.

Iron And Coal Dominated Everywhere, From Grey To Black: The Black Boots, The Black Stove-pipe Hat, The Black Coach Or Carriage, The Black Iron Frame Of The Hearth, The Black Cooking Pots And Pans And Stoves. Was It A Mourning? Was It Protective Coloration? Was It Mere Depression Of The Senses? No Matter What The Original Color Of The Paleotechnic Milieu Might Be It Was Soon Reduced By Reason Of The Soot And Cinders That Accompanied Its Activities, To Its Characteristic Tones, Grey, Dirty-brown, Black.