A hundred things are done today in the divine name of Youth, that if they showed their true colors would be seen by rights to belong rather to old age.
A hundred things are done today in the divine name of Youth, that if they showed their true colours would be seen by rights to belong rather to old age.
A sort of war of revenge on the intellect is what, for some reason, thrives in the contemporary social atmosphere.
All orthodox opinion - that is, today, "revolutionary" opinion either of the pure or the impure variety - is anti-man.
Almost anything that can be praised or advocated has been put to some disgusting use. There is no principle, however immaculate, that has not had its compromising manipulator.
As a result of the feminist revolution, "feminine" becomes an abusive epithet.
I feel most at home in the United States, not because it is intrinsically a more interesting country, but because no one really belongs there any more than I do. We are all there together in its wholly excellent vacuum.
If the world would only build temples to Machinery in the abstract then everything would be perfect. The painter and sculptor would have plenty to do, and could, in complete peace and suitably honored, pursue their trade without further trouble.
In the democratic western countries so-called capitalism leads a saturnalia of "freedom," like a bastard brother of reform.
It is more comfortable for me, in the long run, to be rude than polite.
Men were only made into "men" with great difficulty even in primitive society: the male is not naturally "a man" any more than the woman. He has to be propped up into that position with some ingenuity, and is always likely to collapse.
No American worth his salt should go around looking for a root. I advance this in all modesty, as a not unreasonable opinion.
Prostration is our natural position. A worm-like movement from a spot of sunlight to a spot of shade, and back, is the type of movement that is natural to men.
Revolution today is taken for granted, and in consequence becomes rather dull.
The art of advertisement, after the American manner, has introduced into all our life such a lavish use of superlatives, that no standard of value whatever is intact.
The intelligence suffers today automatically in consequence of the attack on all authority, advantage, or privilege. These things are not done away with, it is needless to say, but numerous scapegoats are made of the less politically powerful, to satisfy the egalitarian rage awakened.
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