Where there are no heroes to make an end of horrors.
Where even to live outdoors cannot clean men.
Where there is no imagination and no faith.
Where there is no silence....
Do you call it an asylum of crazed beings who annihilate each other? Not at all. You call it the world. You say it is “a good old world, after all.” And you resent the “freak” who tells you your world is upside down.
Out of the loneliness of self-direction comes the only completion of life.—“The Scavenger.”
Moods
Ben Hecht
I have heard the water beasts roaring in the night,