Life Is Made Up Of A Series

I Had Rather Take My Chance That Some Traitors Will Escape Detection Than Spread Abroad A Spirit Of General Suspicion And Distrust, Which Accepts Rumor And Gossip In Place Of Undismayed And Unintimidated Inquiry.

There Is No Fury Like That Against One Who, We Fear, May Succeed In Making Us Disloyal To Beliefs We Hold With Passion, But Have Not Really Won.

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.

A Society In Which Men Recognize No Check Upon Their Freedom Soon Becomes A Society Where Freedom Is The Possession Of Only A Savage Few.

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.