Traditional Anglo-Saxon intolerance is a local and temporal culture trait like any other.

The happiest excitement in life is to be convinced that one is fighting for all one is worth on behalf of some clearly seen and deeply felt good, and against some greatly scorned evil.

In world history, those who have helped to build the same culture are not necessarily of one race, and those of the same race have not all participated in one culture.

The life-history of the individual is first and foremost an accommodation to the patterns and standards traditionally handed down in his community. From the moment of his birth the customs into which he is born shape his experience and behavior. By the time he can talk, he is the little creature of his culture, and by the time he is grown and able to take part in its activities, its habits are his habits, its beliefs his beliefs, its impossibilities his impossibilities.

It is strange how long we rebel against a platitude until suddenly in a different lingo it looms up again as the only verity.

No man ever looks at the world with pristine eyes. He sees it edited by a definite set of customs and institutions and ways of thinking.

I haven't strength of mind not to need a career.