Superstition Is More Injurious To

You Live As If You Were Destined To Live Forever, No Thought Of Your Frailty Ever Enters Your Head, Of How Much Time Has Already Gone By You Take No Heed. You Squander Time As If You Drew From A Full And Abundant Supply, So All The While That Day Which You Bestow On Some Person Or Thing Is Perhaps Your Last. You Have All The Fears Of Mortals And All The Desires Of Immortals… What Foolish Forgetfulness Of Mortality To Defer Wise Resolutions To The Fiftieth Or Sixtieth Year, And To Intend To Begin Life At A Point To Which Few Have Attained.

Whatever Dressing One Gives To Mushrooms, To Whatever Sauces Our Apiciuses Put Them, They Are Not Really Good But To Be Sent Back To The Dungheap Where They Are Born.

One May Demand Of Me That I Should Seek Truth, But Not That I Should Find It

We Swallow With One Gulp The Lie That Flatters Us, And Drink Drop By Drop The Truth Which Is Bitter To Us.

The General Interest Of The Masses Might Take The Place Of The Insight Of Genius If It Were Allowed Freedom Of Action.