Poor David Hume is dying fast but with more real cheerfulness and good humor and with more real resignation to the necessary course of things than any whining Christian ever dyed with pretended resignation to the will of God.
If I didn't try to eavesdrop on every bus ride I take or look for the humor when I go for a walk I would just be depressed all the time.
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The nation that complacently and fearfully allows its artists and writers to become suspected rather than respected is no longer regarded as a nation possessed with humor or depth.
