Happiness Is Not A Goal; It Is

People Can Only Make You Inferior With Your Consent.

I Received A Most Amusing Postcard The Other Morning. Unfortunately, It Was Not Signed In A Readable Manner So I Cannot Answer It Privately. But It Comes From Moblie, Ala., And Says: 'dear Mrs. Roosevelt: You Have Not Answered My Question, The Amount Of Negro Blood You Have In Your Veins, If Any.' I Am Afraid None Of Us Know How Much Nor What Kind Of Blood We Have In Our Veins, Since Chemically It Is All The Same. And Most Of Us Cannot Trace Our Ancestry More Than A Few Generations.

So, After All, We Are But Puppets, Creatures Of Our Fate, Not Commanding It But Being Molded By It.

I Can Not Believe That War Is The Best Solution. No One Won The Last War, And No One Will Win The Next War.

It Is A Rather Curious Thing To Have To Divide One's Life Into Personal And Official Compartments And Temporarily Put The Personal Side Into Its Hidden Compartment To Be Taken Out Again When One's Official Duties Are At An End.