American politics is a struggle, not of men but of forces. The men become every year more and more creatures of force, massed about central power houses.

In the one branch he most needed

I hate photographs abstractly, because they have given me more ideas perversely and immovably wrong, than I ever should get by imagination.

No man means all he says, and yet very few say all they mean, for words are slippery and thought is viscous.

Modern politics is, at bottom, a struggle not of men but of forces. The men become every year more and more creatures of force, massed about central powerhouses. The conflict is no longer between the men, but between the motors that drive the men, and the men tend to succumb to their own motive forces.

I am fairly tired--bored beyond endurance--by the world we live in, and its ideals, and am ready to say so, not violently, but kindly, as one rubs salt into the back of a flogged sailor as though one loved him.

Some day science may have the existence of mankind in its power, and the human race commit suicide, by blowing up the world.