Even after a thousand pages we don’t want to leave the world the writer has made for us, or the make-believe people who live there.

War is the form nostalgia takes when men are hard-pressed to say something good about their country.

The real Machiavellian, like the infant, believes there is nothing bigger or more important than him or herself. To succeed, you will need to achieve that view, to return to the liberating egocentrism of the selfish, amoral child who wants what he wants and permits nothing to get in its way.

Written By Julia Ward Howe

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