Socialism, when the last word is said, is merely a new economic and political system whereby more men can get food to eat.

The grapes on a score of rolling hills are red with autumn flame. Across Sonoma Mountain wisps of sea fog are stealing. The afternoon sun smoulders in the drowsy sky. I have everything to make me glad I am alive. I am filled with dreams and mysteries. I am all sun and air and sparkle. I am vitalized, organic.

But, – and there it is, – we want to live and move, though we have no reason to, because it happens that it is the nature of life to live and move, to want to live and move. If it were not for this, life would be dead. It is because of this life that is in you that you dream of your immortality.

He was sounding the deeps of his nature, and of the parts of his nature that were deeper than he, going back into the womb of Time.

As one grows weaker one is less susceptible to suffering. There is less hurt because there is less to hurt.

The loneliness of the man is slowly being borne in upon me. There is not a man aboard but hates or fears him, nor is there a man whom he does not despise.

Not all the monsters have fangs.