The dearest idol I have known, Whatever that idol be, Help me to tear it from thy throne , And worship only thee.

You don't really get to choose. We worship you, and that makes you our God.

For 'tis a truth well known to most, That whatsoever thing is lost We seek it, ere it come to light, In every cranny but the right

External beauty is certainly cool to admire, but when worshipped - it eclipses internal shine.

To make the State your god is to worship an idol, for the State is a man-made creation arising naturally out of tribal communion; but the soul, if such there be, is a god-made miracle and above all national or patriotic standards – the supreme and eternal reality.

If I were a heathen, I would rear a statue to energy, and fall down and worship it