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Updated: June 21, 2025
If he see a snake unkilled, he fears a mischief; if the salt fall towards him, he looks pale and red, and is not quiet till one of the waiters have poured wine on his lap; and when he sneezeth, thinks them not his friends that uncover not. In the morning he listens whether the crow crieth even or odd, and by that token presages of the weather.
If he was not careful that lean, hungry-looking horse, with Garrison up, would swing out from the bunch, fresh, unkilled by pace-following, and beat him to a froth. . . . There, there! Look at that! Look at that! God! how Garrison is riding! Riding as he never rode before. Has he come back? Look at him. . . . I told you so. I told you so. There comes that black fiend across It's a foul! No, no.
So I'll step out and kill a couple of chickens won't I?" "Kill what you please," said King Corny; "but without my warrant, nothing killed or unkilled shall come up to my table this day and that's enough. No more reasoning quit the subject and the room, Betty."
Organised morals or organised religion or organised thought are dead morals and dead religion and dead thought. Yet some organisation you must have. Organisation is like killing cattle. If you do not kill some the herd is just waste. But you musn't kill all or you kill the herd. The unkilled cattle are the herd, the continuation; the unorganised side of life is the real life.
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