Nothing save divine power is capable of doing so much for man as he can for himself.

Lulled by stupefying illusions, the world is asleep in the cradle of infancy, dreaming away the hours.

Is civilization only a higher form of idolatry, that man should bow down to a flesh-brush, to flannels, to baths, diet, exercise, and air?

Drugs, cataplasms, and whiskey are stupid substitutes for the dignity and potency of divine mind and its efficacy to heal.

Matter and death are mortal illusions.

Sin brought death, and death will disappear with the disappearance of sin.

Complaint is poverty.