"You always do a thing first, if you really mean to do it--which I suppose is moral courage--and then you go anxiously round afterwards to see if other people approve, which I am afraid looks like moral cowardice.

I go on a different plan altogether.

I ascertain the opinion of so many people before I do anything that I end by forgetting what I wanted to do.

At least, that seems a reasonable explanation for the fact that I so seldom do anything." Michael looked affectionately at the handsome boy who lounged long-legged in the chair opposite him.

Like many very shy persons, he had one friend with whom he was completely unreserved, and that was this cousin of his, for whose charm and insouciant brilliance he had so adoring an admiration.
He pointed a broad, big finger at him.
"Yes, but when you are like that," he said, "you can just float along.
Other people float you.