Of men

Or their gods,

Strange! that you should not have suspected years ago–centuries, ages, eons, ago!–for you have existed, companionless, through all the eternities. Strange, indeed, that you should not have suspected that your universe and its contents were only dreams, visions, fiction! Strange because they are so frankly and hysterically insane–like all dreams: a God who could make good children as easily as bad, yet preferred to make bad ones; who could have made every one of them happy, yet never made a single happy one; who made them prize their bitter life, yet stingily cut it short; who gave his angels eternal happiness unearned, yet required his other children to earn it; who gave his angels painless lives, yet cursed his other children with biting miseries and maladies of mind and body; who mouths justice and invented hell–mouths mercy and invented hell–mouths Golden Rules, and forgiveness multiplied by seventy times seven, and invented hell; who mouths morals to other people and has none himself; who frowns upon crimes, yet commits them all; who created man without invitation, then tries to shuffle the responsibility for man’s acts upon man, instead of honorably placing it where it belongs, upon himself; and finally, with altogether divine obtuseness, invites this poor, abused slave to worship him!.

By Mark Twain

 

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On loyalty

The type Mark Twain would recommend. He writes

You see my kind of loyalty was loyalty to one’s country, not to its institutions or its Office holders. The country is the real thing, the substantial thing, the eternal thing; it is the thing to watch over and care for, and be loyal to; institutions are extraneous, they are its mere clothing and clothing can wear out, become ragged, cease to be comfortable, cease to protect the body from winter, disease and death. To be loyal to rags, to shout for rags, to worship rags, to die for rags, that is a loyalty of unreason, it is pure animal; it belongs to monarchy, was invented by monarchy; let monarchy keep it.

I don’t even think I have this type of loyalty.

On bibliolaters

….unfortunately those who profess to value this book the most derive the least benefit from it. They mistake the meaning and purpose of its writers. They accept as facts its most palpable fictions. Its most laughable stories are read with the most solemn visages. This serious method of treating the ridiculous has produced an army of morose dyspeptics who mistake indigestion for religion and intolerance for virtue.

The bible by J Remsburg 

some truths

Yes, it is a truth- the vastest, most certain of truths, if one will- that our life is nothing, and our efforts the merest jest; our existence, that of our planet, only a miserable accident in the history of worlds; but it is no less a truth that, to us, our life and our planet are the most important, nay, the only important phenomena in the history of the worlds.

The Buried Temple by Maurice Maeterlinck

On silence

Plutarch writes

Before you speak, reflect on the following

  • what is this word that is so eager for utterance
  • to what is this tongue marching
  • what good will come of speaking now or what harm of silence

He proceeds to ask

if words are neither useful to the speaker, nor necessary for the hearer, nor contain any pleasure or charm, why are they spoken?