The lives of most men are determined by their enviroment. They accept the circumstances amid which fate has thrown them not only resignation but even with good will. They are like streetcars running contendedly on their rails and they despise the sprightly flitter that dashes in and out of the traffic and speeds so jauntily（活泼地） across the open country. I respct them, they are good citizens, good husbands and good fathers, and of course somebody has to pay the taxes, but I do not find them exciting.

 

I am fasinated by the men, few enough in all conscience, who take life in their own hands and seem to mould it in to their own liking. It may be that we have no such thing as free will, but at all events, we have the illusion of it. At a cross-road it does seem to us that we might go either to the right or to the left and, the choice once made, it is difficult to see that the whole course of the world's history obliged us to take the turning we did.