Margaret Halsey (February 13, 1910 – February 4, 1997) was an American writer who lived in the United Kingdom for a short time. Her first book With Malice Toward Some (1938) grew out of her experiences there. It was a witty and humorous bestseller, selling 600,000 copies. It won one of the early National Book Awards: the Most Original Book of 1938, voted by members of the American Booksellers Association.According to her obituary in The New York Times, she was "a witty writer with an acute social concern, [and] was compared to Dorothy Parker and H. L. Mencken".Several of her books were controversial or took on controversial subjects. She wrote two books inspired by her experiences volunteering as a hostess at the racially-integrated Stage Door Canteen in Times Square: a novel, Some of My Best Friends Are Soldiers, and Color Blind: A White Woman Looks at the Negro. The latter was banned in Georgia and favorably reviewed by Margaret Mead.The Pseudo-Ethic: A Speculation on American Politics and Morals was a defense of Alger Hiss.
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Life . . . punishes those who try to compartmentalize it. Thus if, for any reason whatsoever, moral standards are conspicuously and unprecedentedly breached in one area of society, such as the political, it will follow as the night the day that those standards will start collapsing all down the line — in sports, entertainment, education, the armed forces, business, and government.
I am still looking for the modern equivalent of those Quakers who ran successful businesses, made money because they offered honest products and treated their people decently, worked hard, spent honestly, saved honestly, gave honest value for money, put back more than they took out, and told no lies. This business creed, sadly, seems long forgotten.
I gathered my shoes and wallet on the other side of the metal detector and took a last glance at my father, who was still there, still waving.That mangled finger had always been a symbol of his shortcomings and deformities to me, but now I saw it was also a testament to all that he'd sacrificed for our family.He'd lost that trigger finger building the business that had fed and clothed me. I imagined he was not only waving me goodbye but waving me forward with that symbol of his own woundedness.