We all live in suspense, from day to day, from hour to hour; in other words, we are the hero of our own story.
Mary MccarthyRead
If someone tells you he is going to make a 'realistic decision', you immediately understand that he has resolved to do something bad.
Interpretation
The quote suggests that the term 'realistic decision' often implies choosing a morally questionable path.
Mary McCarthy's quote points to the idea that when people frame their choices as 'realistic,' they may be masking unethical considerations behind a facade of practicality. It challenges the notion that realism is inherently virtuous, suggesting that what is deemed realistic can often align with negative or harmful actions.
In practice
In a discussion about ethical leadership, you could quote this to emphasize the importance of integrity over mere practicality.
We all live in suspense, from day to day, from hour to hour; in other words, we are the hero of our own story.
The exile is a singular, whereas refugees tend to be thought of in the mass ... What is implied in these nuances of social standing is the respect we pay to choice. The exile appears to have made a decision, while the refugee is the very image of helplessness.
Every word she writes is a lie, including "and" and "the."
Anti-Semitism is a horrible disease from which nobody is immune, and it has a kind of evil fascination that makes an enlightened person draw near the source of infection, supposedly in a scientific spirit, but really to sniff the vapors and dally with the possibility.
If one means by style the voice, the irreducible and always recognizable and alive thing, then of course style is really everything.
To care for the quarrels of the past, to identify oneself passionately with a cause that became, politically speaking, a losing cause with the birth of the modern world, is to experience a kind of straining against reality, a rebellious nonconformity that, again, is rare in America, where children are instructed in the virtues of the system they live under, as though history had achieved a happy ending in American civics.
Death, so called, is a thing which makes men weep, And yet a third of life is passed in sleep.
As the least drop of wine tinges the whole goblet, so the least particle of truth colors our whole life.
Man does not live by soap alone; and hygiene, or even health, is not much good unless you can take a healthy view of it or, better still, feel a healthy indifference to it.
Men speak of dreaming as if it were a phenomenon of night and sleep. They should know better. All results achieved by us are self-promised, and all self-promises are made in dreams awake. Dreaming is the relief of labor,the wine that sustains us in act. We learn to love labor, not for itself, but for the opportunity it furnishes for dreaming, which is the great under-monotone of real life, unheard, unnoticed, because of its constancy. Living is dreaming. Only in the graves are there no dreams.
To the socialist no nation is free whose national existence is based upon the enslavement of another people, for to him colonial peoples, too, are peoples, and, as such, parts of the national state.
As for solitude, I cannot understand how certain people seek to lay claim to intellectual stature, nobility of soul and strength of character, yet have not the slightest feeling for seclusion; for solitude, I maintain, when joined with a quiet contemplation of nature, a serene and conscious faith in creation and the Creator, and a few vexations from outside is the only school for a mind of lofty endowment.
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