For they are the realities.
I want to go now to some quiet corner where I can polish what I have
learnt, sort out my accumulations, be undisturbed by these
transitory symptomatic things. . . .
"What was that boy saying? They are burning the STAR office. . . .
Well, let them. . . ."
And as if to emphasize his detachment, his aversion, from the things
that hurried through the night about them, from the red flare in the
sky and the distant shouts and revolver shots and scuffling flights
down side streets, he began to talk again of aristocracy and the
making of greatness and a new great spirit in men. All the rest of
his life, he said, must be given to that. He would say his thing
plainly and honestly and afterwards other men would say it clearly
and beautifully; here it would touch a man and there it would touch
a man; the Invisible King in us all would find himself and know
himself a little in this and a little in that, and at last a day
would come, when fair things and fine things would rule the world
and such squalor as this about them would be as impossible any more
for men as a Stone Age Corroboree.
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