Life Is A Theatre Of Alarms And

One Who Shows Signs Of Mental Aberration Is, Inevitably, Perhaps, But Cruelly, Shut Off From Familiar, Thoughtless Intercourse, Partly Excommunicated; His Isolation Is Unwittingly Proclaimed To Him On Every Countenance By Curiosity, Indifference, Aversion, Or Pity, And In So Far As He Is Human Enough To Need Free And Equal Communication And Feel The Lack Of It, He Suffers Pain And Loss Of A Kind And Degree Which Others Can Only Faintly Imagine, And For The Most Part Ignore.

We Cannot Feel Strongly Toward The Totally Unlike Because It Is Unimaginable, Unrealizable; Nor Yet Toward The Wholly Like Because It Is Stale - Identity Must Always Be Dull Company. The Power Of Other Natures Over Us Lies In A Stimulating Difference Which Causes Excitement And Opens Communication, In Ideas Similar To Our Own But Not Identical, In States Of Mind Attainable But Not Actual.

Unless A Capacity For Thinking Be Accompanied By A Capacity For Action, A Superior Mind Exists In Torture.

Simplicity Is A Pleasant Thing In Children, Or At Any Age, But It Is Not Necessarily Admirable, Nor Is Affectation Altogether A Thing Of Evil. To Be Normal, To Be At Home In The World, With A Prospect Of Power, Usefulness, Or Success, The Person Must Have That Imaginative Insight Into Other Minds That Underlies Tact And Savoir-faire, Morality And Beneficence. This Insight Involves Sophistication, Some Understanding And Sharing Of The Clandestine Impulses Of Human Nature. A Simplicity That Is Merely The Lack Of This Insight Indicates A Sort Of Defect.

Prudence And Compromise Are Necessary Means, But Every Man Should Have An Impudent End Which He Will Not Compromise.