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11 - Anthem - Ayn Rand · Classic Sci Fi Books - Daily

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  Speaker 1: Chapter eleven. I am, I think, I will, my hands,
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  Speaker 1: my spirit, my sky, my forest, this earth of mine.
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  Speaker 1: What must I say? Besides these are the words? This
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  Speaker 1: is the answer. I stand here on the summit of
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  Speaker 1: the mountain. I lift my head and I spread my arms.
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  Speaker 1: This my body and spirit. This is the end of
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  Speaker 1: the quest. I wish to know the meaning of things.
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  Speaker 1: I am the meaning. I wish to find a warrant
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  Speaker 1: for being. I need no warrant for being, and no
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  Speaker 1: word of sanction upon my being. I am the warrant
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  Speaker 1: and the sanction. It is my eyes which see, and
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  Speaker 1: the sight of my eyes grants beauty to the earth.
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  Speaker 1: It is my ears which hear, and the hearing of
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  Speaker 1: my ears gives its song to the world. It is
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  Speaker 1: my mind which thinks, and the judgment of my mind
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  Speaker 1: is the only searchlight that confine the truth. It is
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  Speaker 1: my will which chooses, and the choice of my will
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  Speaker 1: is the only edict I must respect. Many words have
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  Speaker 1: been granted me, and some are wise and some are false,
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  Speaker 1: but only three are holy. I will it whatever road
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  Speaker 1: I take. The guiding star is within me. The guiding
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  Speaker 1: star and the lodestone which point the way they point in.
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  Speaker 1: But one direction they point to me. I know not
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  Speaker 1: if this earth on which I stand is the core
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  Speaker 1: of the universe, or if it is a speck of
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  Speaker 1: dust lost in eternity. I know not, and I care not,
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  Speaker 1: for I know what happiness is possible to me on earth,
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  Speaker 1: and my happiness needs no higher aim to vindicate it.
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  Speaker 1: My happiness is not the means to any end. It
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  Speaker 1: is the end. It is its own goal, it is
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  Speaker 1: its own purpose. Neither am I the means to any
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  Speaker 1: end others may wish to accomplish. I am not a
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  Speaker 1: tool for their use. I am not a servant of
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  Speaker 1: their needs. I am not a bandage for their wounds.
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  Speaker 1: I am not a sacrifice on their altars. I am
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  Speaker 1: a man. Miracle of me is mine to own and keep,
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  Speaker 1: and mine to guard, and mine to use, and mine
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  Speaker 1: to kneel before. I do not surrender my treasures, nor
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  Speaker 1: do I share them. The fortune of my spirit is
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  Speaker 1: not to be blown into coins of brass and flung
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  Speaker 1: to the winds as alms for the poor of the spirit.
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  Speaker 1: I guard my treasures, my thought, my will, my freedom,
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  Speaker 1: and the greatest of these is freedom. I owe nothing
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  Speaker 1: to my brothers, nor do I gather debts from them.
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  Speaker 1: I ask none to live for me, nor do I
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  Speaker 1: live for any others. I covet no man's soul, nor
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  Speaker 1: is my soul theirs to cove. I am neither foe
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  Speaker 1: nor friend to my brothers, but such as each of
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  Speaker 1: them shall deserve of me. And to earn my love,
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  Speaker 1: my brothers must do more than to have been born.
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  Speaker 1: I do not grant my love without reason, nor to
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  Speaker 1: any chance or by who may wish to claim it.
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  Speaker 1: I honor men with my love, but honor is a
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  Speaker 1: thing to be earned. I shall choose friends among men,
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  Speaker 1: but neither slave nor masters. And I shall choose only
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  Speaker 1: such as please me. And then I shall love and respect,
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  Speaker 1: but neither command nor obey. And we shall join our
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  Speaker 1: hands when we wish, or walk alone when we so desire.
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  Speaker 1: For in the temple of his spirit, each man is alone.
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  Speaker 1: Let each man keep his temple untouched and undefiled. Then
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  Speaker 1: let him join hands with others if he wishes, but
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  Speaker 1: only beyond his holy threshold. For the word we must
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  Speaker 1: never be spoken, save by one's choice, and as a
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  Speaker 1: second thought. This word must never be placed first within
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  Speaker 1: man's soul, else it becomes a monster. The root of
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  Speaker 1: all the evils on earth, the root of man's torture
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  Speaker 1: by men, and an unspeakable lie. The word we is
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  Speaker 1: as lime poured over men, which sets and hardens to
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  Speaker 1: stone and crushes all beneath it. And that which is
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  Speaker 1: white and that which is black are lost equally in
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  Speaker 1: the gray of it. And it is the word by
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  Speaker 1: which the depraved steal the virtue of the good, by
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  Speaker 1: which the weak steal the might of the strong, and
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  Speaker 1: by which the fools steal the wisdom of the sages.
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  Speaker 1: What is my joy if all hands, even the unclean,
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  Speaker 1: can reach into it? What is my wisdom? If even
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  Speaker 1: the fools can dictate to me? What is my freedom?
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  Speaker 1: If all creatures, even the botched and impotent, are my masters?
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  Speaker 1: What is my life? If I am but to bow,
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  Speaker 1: to agree, and to obey. But I am done with
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  Speaker 1: this creed of corruption. I am done with the monster
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  Speaker 1: of we, the word of serfdom of plunder, of misery
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  Speaker 1: and falsehood and shame. And now I see the face
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  Speaker 1: of God, and I raise this God over the earth,
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  Speaker 1: and this God whom men have sought since men came
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  Speaker 1: into being, This God who will grant them joy and
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  Speaker 1: peace and pride, this God, this one word. I end
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  Speaker 1: Chapter eleven.