I Want To Find Someone On The

The World Of Politics Is Always Twenty Years Behind The World Of Thought.

A Magazine Or A Newspaper Is A Shop. Each Is An Experiment And Represents A New Focus, A New Ratio Between Commerce And Intellect.

The Reason For The Slow Progress Of The World Seems To Lie In A Single Fact. Every Man Is Born Under The Yoke, And Grows Up Beneath The Oppressions Of His Age. He Can Only Get A Vision Of The Unselfish Forces In The World By Appealing To Them, And Every Appeal Is A Call To Arms. If He Fights He Must Fight, Not One Man, But A Conspiracy. He Is Always At War With A Civilization. On His Side Is Proverbial Philosophy, A Galaxy Of Invisible Saints And Sages, And The Half-developed Consciousness And Professions Of Everybody. Against Him Is The World, And Every Selfish Passion In His Own Heart.

I Want To Find Someone On The Earth So Intelligent That He Welcomes Opinions Which He Condemns.

Too Much Agreement Kills The Chat.