To work! All of us have much to do to wake up the proletariat in this country of the blind.

But the hour will come.

Get me the newspapers." Karlov pushed his visitor from the room and locked and bolted the door.
He stepped over to the window again and stared down at the clutter of pushcarts, drays, trucks, and human beings that tried to go forward and got forward only by moving sideways or worming through temporary breaches, seldom directly--the way of humanity.

But there was no object lesson in this for Karlov, who was not philosophical in the peculiar sense of one who was demanding a reason for everything and finding allegory and comparison and allusion in the ebb and flow of life.

The philosophical is often misapplied to the stoical.