Животные суть не что иное, как прообразы наших добродетелей и пороков, блуждающие пред нашим взором призраки наших душ. Бог показывает их нам, чтобы заставить нас задуматься. Но так как животные - это всего лишь тени, то бог не одарил их восприимчивостью в полном смысле этого слова; да и к чему им это? Наши души, напротив, существуя реально и обладая конечной целью, получили от бога разум, то есть восприимчивость к воспитанию. Правильно поставленное общественное воспитание всегда может извлечь из души, какова бы она ни была, то полезное, что она содержит.

"Judgment to distinguish right and wrong, vision to see the truth, courage to act upon it, dedication to that which is good, integrity to stand by the good at any price. But where does one find it?"

"Judgment to distinguish right and wrong, vision to see the truth, courage to act upon it, dedication to that which is good, integrity to stand by the good at any price. But where does one find it?"
The young boy made a sound that was half-chuckle, half-sneer: "Who is John Galt?"
She drank the coffee, concerned with nothing but the pleasure of feeling as if the hot liquid were reviving the arteries of her body.

"What's wrong with inner-spring mattresses?" said a man who looked like a truck driver. "Don't mind him, lady. He likes to hear himself talk. He don't mean no harm."
"Man's only talent is an ignoble cunning for satisfying the needs of his body," said the old bum. "No intelligence is required for that.
Don't believe the stories about man's mind, his spirit, his ideals, his sense of unlimited ambition."
"I don't," said a young boy who sat at the end of the counter. He wore a coat ripped across one shoulder; his square-shaped mouth seemed formed by the bitterness of a lifetime.
"Spirit?" said the old bum. "There's no spirit involved in manufacturing or in sex. Yet these are man's only concerns. Matter—that's all men know or care about. As witness our great industries—the only accomplishment of our alleged civilization—built by vulgar materialists with the aims, the interests and the moral sense of hogs. It doesn't take any morality to turn out a ten-ton truck on an assembly line."
"What is morality?" she asked.

His gaunt face, with staring eyes and shrunken features that had been delicate, still retained a trace of distinction. He looked like the hulk of an evangelist or a professor of esthetics who had spent years in contemplation in obscure museums. She wondered what had destroyed him, what error on the way could bring a man to this.
"You go through life looking for beauty, for greatness, for some sublime achievement," he said. "And what do you find? A lot of trick machinery for making upholstered cars or inner-spring mattresses."

yourself."
"About what?"
"About anything being worth a damn. It's dust, lady, all of it, dust and blood. Don't believe the dreams they pump you full of, and you won't get hurt."
"What dreams?"
"The stories they tell you when you're young—about the human spirit. There isn't any human spirit. Man is just a low-grade animal, without intellect, without soul, without virtues or moral values. An animal with only two capacities: to eat and to reproduce."

"It's no use, lady," said the old bum beside her.
She had to raise her head. She had to smile in amusement, at him and at herself.
"It isn't?" she asked.
"No. Forget it. You're only fooling your

If one's actions are honest, one does not need the predated confidence of others, only their rational perception. The person who craves a moral blank check of that kind, has dishonest intentions, whether he admits it to himself or not."

"When I die, I hope to go to heaven—whatever the hell that is—and I want to be able to afford the price of admission.”
"Virtue is the price of admission," Jim said haughtily.
"That's what I mean, James. So I want to be prepared to claim the greatest virtue of all—that I was a man who made money."
"Any grafter can make money."
"James, you ought to discover some day that words have an exact meaning."
Francisco smiled; it was a smile of radiant mockery. Watching them, Dagny thought suddenly of the difference between Francisco and her brother Jim. Both of them smiled derisively. But Francisco seemed to laugh at things because he saw something much greater. Jim laughed as if he wanted to let nothing remain great.

"Francisco, what's the most depraved type of human being?"
"The man without a purpose."

no doubts