Random Quotes From Ayn Rand
It only stands to reason that where there’s sacrifice, there’s someone collecting the sacrificial offerings. Where there’s service, there is someone being served. The man who speaks to you of sacrifice is speaking of slaves and masters, and intends to be the master.
Reason is not automatic. Those who deny it cannot be conquered by it. Do not count on them. Leave them alone.
The question isn’t who is going to let me; it’s who is going to stop me.
Ayn Rand, was a Russian-born American novelist and philosopher. She is widely known for her best-selling novels The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged, and for developing a philosophical system she called Objectivism.
My Sin
I have fallen, Lord, once more. I can’t go on and I’ll never succeed. I’m ashamed and I don’t dare look at you. And yet I’ve struggled Lord, for I knew you were right near me bending over me, watching. But temptation blew in like a hurricane and, instead of looking at you, I turned my head away and stepped aside while you stood silent and sorrowful, like the squirmed fiancée who sees his loved one carried off by his rival.
When the wind had died down as suddenly as it had arisen, when the lightening ceased after proudly streaking the darkness, all of a sudden I found myself alone, ashamed, disgusted with my sin in my hands. This sin that I selected, as a customer selects his purchase. This sin that I paid for but cannot return, for the store keeper is no longer there. This tasteless sin, this odious sin, this sin that now sickens me, which I once wanted, but I want no more. That I imagined, sought, played with, fondled for a long time, that I finally embraced by passing you.
My arms outstretched, my eyes and heart irresistibly drawn, this sin that I’ve grasped and consumed with a gluttony. It’s mine now, Lord, but it possesses me as a spider web holds captive the fly. It’s mine and sticks to me. It flows in my veins and fills my heart. It has slipped in everywhere, as darkness slips into the forest at dusk and fills all the patches of light. Lord, I can’t seem to get rid of it. I run from it like the master of an unwanted and mangy dog. But it catches up with me and rubs joyfully against my legs. Everyone must notice it. I’m so ashamed that I feel like crawling to avoid being seen. I’m ashamed of being seen by my friends, Lord. I’m ashamed of being seen by you, for you loved me and I forgot you. I forgot you because I was thinking only of myself, and one can’t think of several persons at once; one must choose and I chose.
And now, Lord, your voice, your look, and your love hurt me. They weigh me down more than my sin. Lord, please don’t look at me like that, I’m naked and dirty, down and shattered with no strength left, and I dare not make any more promises. I can only stand bowed before you, Lord.
Come on, son, look up. Isn’t it mainly your vanity that has ruined it? If you loved me you would grieve, but you would trust. Do you think there’s a limit to God’s love? Do you think for a moment I have stopped loving you? But you still rely on yourself, son, you must rely on me. Ask my pardon and get up quickly. You see, it’s not falling that is the worst, but staying on the ground.
Quote For Fear
“Some have been thought brave because they were afraid to run away.”
-Thomas Fuller
Edwin Fesche
So, dear Edinburgh students, this is likely to be the last time I address you, and this is what I want to say—and I don’t really care whether it means anything to you or not, whether you think there is anything in it or not. I want you to believe that this row I have had with your elected officers has nothing to do with any puritanical attitudes on my part. I have no belief in abstinence for abstinence’s own sake, no wish under any circumstances to check any fulfilment of your life and being. But I have to say to you this: that whatever life is or is not about, it is not to be expressed in terms of drug stupefaction and casual sexual relations. However else we may venture into the unknown it is not I assure you on the plastic wings of Playboy magazine or psychedelic fancies.
-Edwin Fesche Delivered at the University of Edinburgh Service in the High Kirk of St Giles, 14 January 1968