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A Generation Which Has Passed Through The Shop Has Absorbed Standards And Ambitions Which Are Not Of Those Of Spaciousness, And Cannot Get Away From Them. Everything With Them Is Done As Though For Sale, And They Naturally Have In View The Greatest Possible Benefit, Profit And That End Of The Stuff That Will Make The Best Show.

-Alexander Herzen

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A Generation Which Has

Alexander Herzen

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A Generation Which Has Passed Through The Shop Has Absorbed Standards And Ambitions Which Are Not Of Those Of Spaciousness, And Cannot Get Away From Them. Everything With Them Is Done As Though For Sale, And They Naturally Have In View The Greatest Possible Benefit, Profit And That End Of The Stuff That Will Make The Best Show.

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The People Is Always Expressive Of The Truth. The Life Of A People Cannot Be A Lie.

I Believe What I Write To Be The Truth...every Man Who Is Not Indifferent To The Truth Has A Weakness For Spreading It About.

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It Must Not Be Thought That The Cowardly Feeling Of Caution And Uneasy Self-preservation Is Innate In The English Character. It Is The Consequence Of A Corpulence Derived From Wealth And Of The Training Of All Thoughts And Passions For Acquisitiveness.

Laws To Suppress Tend To Strengthen What They Would Prohibit. This Is The Fine Point On Which All Legal Professions Of History Have Based Their Job Security.

This Socialism Will Develop In All Its Phases Until It Reaches Its Own Extremes And Absurdities. Then Once Again A Cry Of Denial Will Break From The Titanic Chest Of The Revolutionary Minority And Again A Mortal Struggle Will Begin, In Which Socialism Will Play The Role Of Contemporary Conservatism And Will Be Overwhelmed In The Subsequent Revolution, As Yet Unknown To Us.

We Think The Purpose Of A Child Is To Grow Up Because It Does Grow Up. But Its Purpose Is To Play, To Enjoy Itself, To Be A Child. If We Merely Look To The End Of The Process, The Purpose Of Life Is Death

What Breadth, What Beauty And Power Of Human Nature And Development There Must Be In A Woman To Get Over All The Palisades, All The Fences, Within Which She Is Held Captive!

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Strong Drink Stupefies A Man And Makes It Possible For Him To Forget; It Gives Him An Artificial Cheeriness, An Artificial Excitement; And The Pleasure Of This State Is Increased By The Low Level Of Civilization And The Narrow Empty Life To Which These Men Are Confined.

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History Knocks At A Thousand Gates At Every Moment, And The Gatekeeper Is Chance. We Shout Into The Mist For This One Or That One To Be Opened For Us, But Through Every Gate Are A Thousand More. We Need Wit And Courage To Make Our Way While Our Way Is Making Us.

I Am Truly Horrified By Modern Man. Such Absence Of Feeling, Such Narrowness Of Outlook, Such Lack Of Passion And Information, Such Feebleness Of Thought.

We Could Hardly Believe That After So Many Ordeals, After All The Trials Of Modern Skepticism, There Was Still So Much Left In Our Souls To Destroy.

We Have Wasted Our Spirit In The Regions Of The Abstract And General Just As The Monks Let It Wither In The World Of Prayer And Contemplation.

Every Man Who Has Lived For Fifty Years Has Buried A Whole World Or Even Two; He Has Grown Used To Its Disappearance And Accustomed To The New Scenery Of Another Act: But Suddenly The Names And Faces Of A Time Long Dead Appear More And More Often On His Way, Calling Up Series Of Shades And Pictures Kept Somewhere, "just In Case," In The Endless Catacombs Of The Memory, Making Him Smile Or Sigh, And Sometimes Almost Weep.

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