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Quote by Joe Dixon

“In the Middle Ages, anyone who tried to escape their duties to society - negative libertarians, in other words, with which today's world is full - were not deemed worthy of consideration. They were pathetic. They were Last Men. Today's world produces them by the legions. They are the primary output of modernity.”

Quote by Joe Dixon

Book:The Irresistible Rise of Mediocre Man: The War On Excellence
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The Irresistible Rise of Mediocre Man: The War On Excellence

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Joe Dixon

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“Are you capable of being part of a small group that can change the world? Most people could never rise to the challenge. They are the Ignavi – those who will follow any banner placed in front of them – and the Last Men – those who survive by placing petty self-interest above all other things and know how to ensure they will be the last men standing. Their names will never be remembered. You don’t have to be a member of the Illuminati to make a difference. The changing of the world belongs to everyone. Leaders are self-defining, self-creating, self-starting. They take an idea and they run with it. They inspire others. They don’t need anyone else’s approval, assistance or permission. Above all, they lead. Can you?”

MotivationLeadershipCommitmentStartingLeadersIlluminatiIgnaviLast MenSupermen
Book:The Illuminati
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“The trouble with you, Spode, is that just because you have succeeded in inducing a handful of half-wits to disfigure the London scene by going about in black shorts, you think you're someone. You hear them shouting "Heil, Spode!" and you imagine it is the Voice of the People. That is where you make your bloomer. What the Voice of the People is saying is: "Look at that frightful ass Spode swanking about in footer bags! Did you ever in your puff see such a perfect perisher?”

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Book:The Code of the Woosters
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“But clouds bellied out in the sultry heat, the sky cracked open with a crimson gash, spewed flame-and the ancient forest began to smoke. By morning there was a mass of booming, fiery tongues, a hissing, crashing, howling all around, half the sky black with smoke, and the bloodied sun just barely visible. And what can little men do with their spades, ditches, and pails? The forest is no more, it was devoured by fire: stumps and ash. Perhaps illimitable fields will be plowed here one day, perhaps some new, unheard-of wheat will ripen here and men from Arkansas with shaven faces will weigh in their palms the heavy golden grain. Or perhaps a city will grow up-alive with ringing sound and motion, all stone and crystal and iron-and winged men will come here flying over seas and mountains from all ends of the world. But never again the forest, never again the blue winter silence and the golden silence of summer. And only the tellers of tales will speak in many-colored patterned words about what had been, about wolves and bears and stately green-coated century-old grandfathers, about old Russia; they will speak about all this to us who have seen it with our own eyes ten years - a hundred years! - ago, and to those others, the winged ones, who will come in a hundred years to listen and to marvel at it all as at a fairy tale. ("In Old Russia")”

TimeFireFutureRussiaForest Fire
Book:The Dragon: Fifteen Stories
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“Humanity should not remain insensitive to the forest fire or wildfire every year. Unless we act, the loss of biodiversity and extinction of herbs, birds and animals and the pains of the trees, birds, animals and the poor is also alarming signal for the extinction of humanity itself.”

Human RightsTreesBirdsBiodiversityWildfireForest FireExtinction Of HumanityHuman And Nature
Book:Nuclear Weapons Free World - Peace on the Earth
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“I— I am no’ deservin’ of such kindness. I am tainted, do you no’ see that?” “All I see, Bethie, is the woman I—” Love. “— care deeply about and wish to protect.” The word had come to him so naturally, had slipped onto his tongue as if he’d meant it. And to his astonishment, Nicholas realized he did. He loved her. He was in love with Bethie Stewart.”

LoveSurvivalWildernessIndiansForest FireNicholas KenleighBethie StewartFort PittOhio 1760
Author:Pamela Clare
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