True Individualists Tend To Be Quite Unobservant;

One Must Never Judge The Writer By The Man; But One May Fairly Judge The Man By The Writer.

We Are Neurotically Haunted Today By The Imminence, And By The Ignominy, Of Failure. We Know At How Frightening A Cost One Succeeds: To Fail Is Something Too Awful To Think About.

This Is, I Think, Very Much The Age Of Anxiety, The Age Of The Neurosis, Because Along With So Much That Weighs On Our Minds There Is Perhaps Even More That Grates On Our Nerves.

In The History Of Thought And Culture The Dark Nights Have Perhaps In Some Ways Cost Mankind Less Grief Than The False Dawns, The Prison Houses In Which Hope Persists Less Grief Than The Promised Lands Where Hope Expires.

If It Is The Great Delusion Of Moralists To Suppose That All Previous Ages Were Less Sinful Than Their Own, Then It Is The Great Delusion Of Intellectuals To Suppose That All Previous Ages Were Less Sick.