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Liberty, As It Is Conceived By Current Opinion, Has Nothing Inherent About It; It Is A Sort Of Gift Or Trust Bestowed On The Individual By The State Pending Good Behavior.

Venice Is The Worlds Unconscious: A Misers Glittering Hoard, Guarded By A Beast Whose Eyes Are Made Of White Agate, And By A Saint Who Is Really A Prince Who Has Just Slain A Dragon.

Is It Really So Difficult To Tell A Good Action From A Bad One? I Think One Usually Knows Right Away Or A Moment Afterward, In A Horrid Flash Of Regret.

Calling Someone A Monster Does Not Make Him More Guilty; It Makes Him Less So By Classing Him With Beasts And Devils.

To Care For The Quarrels Of The Past, To Identify Oneself Passionately With A Cause That Became, Politically Speaking, A Losing Cause With The Birth Of The Modern World, Is To Experience A Kind Of Straining Against Reality, A Rebellious Nonconformity That, Again, Is Rare In America, Where Children Are Instructed In The Virtues Of The System They Live Under, As Though History Had Achieved A Happy Ending In American Civics.