average man does not care for high art. At a certain point, the
average man gets sick of high art.

So, in these coming Utopias, in which out unhappy grandchildren will
have to drag out their colorless existence, there will be too much
electricity. They will grow to loathe electricity.

Electricity is going to light them, warm them, carry them, doctor
them, cook for them, execute them, if necessary. They are going to be
weaned on electricity, rocked in their cradles by electricity, slapped
by electricity, ruled and regulated and guided by electricity, buried
by electricity. I may be wrong, but I rather think they are going to
be hatched by electricity.

In the new world of our progressionist teachers, it is electricity
that is the real motive-power. The men and women are only
marionettes--worked by electricity.

But it was not to speak of the electricity in them, but of the
originality in them, that I referred to these works of fiction. There
is no originality in them whatever. Human thought is incapable of
originality. No man ever yet imagined a new thing--only some
variation or extension of an old thing.

The sailor, when he was asked what he would do with a fortune,
promptly replied:

"Buy all the rum and 'baccy there is in the world."

"And what after that?" they asked him.