My Holy Book

limits:

When forced to work within a strict framework the imagination is taxed to its utmost - and will produce its richest ideas. Given total freedom the work is likely to sprawl.

—T.S. Eliot

Of many other things is salad an allegory. I foresee that it will be necessary to write a large and important book on Salad. But of one thing I may speak, since this again is not unconnected with the ethic defended here. Salad is a symbol of civilization; because salad is a balance. All the modern mistake about progress consists in the idea that it is an improvement to have indefinite increase in some definite thing. It is like a man who should seek perfection by pouring more and more oil into the salad. And I confess that, in reading current articles about True Christianity and the duty of Service, I do feel that our salads are getting a great deal too oily. I admit that some such mixtures in the past were much too sharp. But I confessed in a recent article that I have been re-reading Swift; and I think we want a little more vinegar.