Utopias Rest On The Fallacy

Without Leisure There Can Be Neither Art Nor Science Nor Fine Conversation, Nor Any Ceremonious Performance Of The Offices Of Love And Friendship.

Adventure Is Humdrum And Routine Unless One Assimilates It, Unless One Relates It To A Central Core Which Grows Within And Gives It Contour And Significance. Raw Experience Is Empty, Just As Empty As The Forecastle Of A Whaler As In A Chamber Of A Counting House; For It Is Not What One Does, But In A Manifold Sense, What One Realizes That Keeps Existence From Being Vain And Trivial.

Every Work Of Art Is An Abstraction From Time; It Denies The Reality Of Change And Decay And Death.

We Must Give As Much Weight To The Arousal Of The Emotions And To The Expression Of Moral And Esthetic Values As We Now Give To Science, To Invention, To Practical Organization. One Without The Other Is Impotent.

For Most Americans, Progress Means Accepting What Is New Because It Is New, And Discarding What Is Old Because It Is Old.