He who thinks he is made of glass, thinks to the destruction of thought; for glass cannot think.

So he who wills to reject nothing, wills the destruction of will; for will is not only the choice of something, but the rejection of almost everything.

And as I turn and tumble over the clever, wonderful, tiresome, and useless modern books, the title of one of them rivets my eye.

It is called "Jeanne d'Arc," by Anatole France.

I have only glanced at it, but a glance was enough to remind me of Renan's "Vie de Jesus." It has the same strange method of the reverent sceptic.
It discredits supernatural stories that have some foundation, simply by telling natural stories that have no foundation.