I Pursue Pleasure, But Stingily, Suspiciously.

In The Present Age, A Man With Harmonious Ideas Is Regarded As Out Of Touch.

Leisure Unmasks Our Weaknesses.

Thinking About The Universe Has Now Been Handed Over To Specialists. The Rest Of Us Merely Read About It.

Shaw Writes As If It Were Always Midday.

When Science Drove The Gods Out Of Nature, They Took Refuge In Poetry And The Porticos Of Civic Buildings.