There Is No Hell, No

Two Armies At Death-grips — That Is One Great Army Committing Suicide.

I Do Not Regret My Youth And Its Beliefs. Up To Now, I Have Wasted My Time To Live. Youth Is The True Force, But It Is Too Rarely Lucid. Sometimes It Has A Triumphant Liking For What Is Now, And The Pugnacious Broadside Of Paradox May Please It. But There Is A Degree In Innovation Which They Who Have Not Lived Very Much Cannot Attain. And Yet Who Knows If The Stern Greatness Of Present Events Will Not Have Educated And Aged The Generation Which To-day Forms Humanity's Effective Frontier? Whatever Our Hope May Be, If We Did Not Place It In Youth, Where Should We Place It?

We Are All, Always, The Desire Not To Die. This Desire Is As Immeasurable And Varied As Life's Complexity, But At Bottom This Is What It Is: To Continue To Be, To Be More And More, To Develop And To Endure. All The Force We Have, All Our Energy And Clearness Of Mind Serve To Intensify Themselves In One Way Or Another. We Intensify Ourselves With New Impressions, New Sensations, New Ideas. We Endeavour To Take What We Do Not Have And To Add It To Ourselves. Humanity Is The Desire For Novelty Founded Upon The Fear Of Death. That Is What It Is.

The Woman From The Depths Of Her Rags, A Waif, A Martyr — Smiled. She Must Have A Divine Heart To Be So Tired And Yet Smile.

How I Waited For You! How I Longed For You! He Stammered. "i Thought Of You All The Time. I Saw You All The Time. Your Smile Was Everywhere." He Lowered His Voice And Added, "sometimes When People Were Talking Commonplaces And Your Name Happened To Be Mentioned, It Would Go Through My Heart Like An Electric Current.