That lesson was never impressed more forcibly than by a French officer of whom a visitor from America asked, "Did I understand that you had lost three sons?" "Yes, sir, and two brothers," was the proud reply. "How you must hate the Boche," remarked a bystander. "No, no," was the instant reply, "not hate; just pity, sir; pity, but not hate. Hate, you know, is an excessive emotion, sir; and no one can do effective work if he spends his vitality in an excess of emotion. No," he concluded, "we cannot hate; we cannot work if we burn up ourselves inside. Pity, sir; pity. 'They know not what they do.' That's the idea. And they don't."
Sanningen att säga, blev nyfiken på den här boken för omslagets skull, och jag har inte läst hela boken — inte än. Kanske är det mer en bok att bläddra i, än att läsa rakt igenom. Visst finns det pekpinnar — säg den bok som saknade dem, för närmare hundra år sedan! Men jag uppskattar somliga stycken och hoppar över andra.
Läser att John Thomson Faris gillade att resa, och skrev flera böcker om sina resor, en del av dem finns hos Internet Archive.
Boken hittar du hos Gutenberg.
There are people whose minds are like a lumber-room, littered with all sorts of odds and ends. In such a room it is impossible to count on laying hands promptly on a desired article, and in such a mind confusion takes the place of order. The mind had better be empty. An empty mind presents a fine opening for the proper kind of filling, but a confused mind is hopeless. How is it possible to make the memory a helpful servant unless nothing is allowed to find lodgment there that is not worth while?
