The Art Of Publicity Is A Black

The Mutual Confidence On Which All Else Depends Can Be Maintained Only By An Open Mind And A Brave Reliance Upon Free Discussion.

Here I Am An Old Man In A Long Nightgown Making Muffled Noises At People Who May Be No Worse Than I Am.

That Community Is Already In The Process Of Dissolution Where Each Man Begins To Eye His Neighbor As A Possible Enemy, Where Non-conformity With The Accepted Creed, Political As Well As Religious, Is A Mark Of Disaffection; Where Denunciation, Without Specification Or Backing, Takes The Place Of Evidence; Where Orthodoxy Chokes Freedom Of Dissent; Where Faith In The Eventual Supremacy Of Reason Has Become So Timid That We Dare Not Enter Our Convictions In The Open Lists, To Win Or Lose.

Since We Are Men, We Will Play The Part Of Man.

Our Dangers, As It Seems To Me, Are Not From The Outrageous But From The Conforming; Not From Those Who Rarely And Under The Lurid Glare Of Obloquy Upset Our Moral Complaisance, Or Shock Us With Unaccustomed Conduct, But From Those, The Mass Of Us, Who Take Their Virtues And Their Tastes, Like Their Shirts And Their Furniture, From The Limited Patterns Which The Market Offers.