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"
Integrity
is
the
recognition
of
the
fact
that
you
cannot
fake
your
consciousness
,
just
as
honesty
is
the
recognition
of
the
fact
that
you
cannot
fake
existence
—
that
man
is
an
indivisible
entity
,
an
integrated
unit
of
two
attributes
:
of
matter
and
consciousness
,
and
that
he
may
permit
no
breach
between
body
and
mind
,
between
action
and
thought
,
between
his
life
and
his
convictions
—
that
,
like
a
judge
impervious
to
public
opinion
,
he
may
not
sacrifice
his
convictions
to
the
wishes
of
others
,
be
it
the
whole
of
mankind
shouting
pleas
or
threats
against
him
—
that
courage
and
confidence
are
practical
necessities
,
that
courage
is
the
practical
form
of
being
true
to
existence
,
of
being
true
to
truth
,
and
confidence
is
the
practical
form
of
being
true
to
one
’
s
own
consciousness
.
"
Honesty
is
the
recognition
of
the
fact
that
the
unreal
is
unreal
and
can
have
no
value
,
that
neither
love
nor
fame
nor
cash
is
a
value
if
obtained
by
fraud
—
that
an
attempt
to
gain
a
value
by
deceiving
the
mind
of
others
is
an
act
of
raising
your
victims
to
a
position
higher
than
reality
,
where
you
become
a
pawn
of
their
blindness
,
a
slave
of
their
non
-
thinking
and
their
evasions
,
while
their
intelligence
,
their
rationality
,
their
perceptiveness
become
the
enemies
you
have
to
dread
and
flee
—
that
you
do
not
care
to
live
as
a
dependent
,
least
of
all
a
dependent
on
the
stupidity
of
others
,
or
as
a
fool
whose
source
of
values
is
the
fools
he
succeeds
in
fooling
—
that
honesty
is
not
a
social
duty
,
not
a
sacrifice
for
the
sake
of
others
,
but
the
most
profoundly
selfish
virtue
man
can
practice
:
his
refusal
to
sacrifice
the
reality
of
his
own
existence
to
the
deluded
consciousness
of
others
.
"
Justice
is
the
recognition
of
the
fact
that
you
cannot
fake
the
character
of
men
as
you
cannot
fake
the
character
of
nature
,
that
you
must
judge
all
men
as
conscientiously
as
you
judge
inanimate
objects
,
with
the
same
respect
for
truth
,
with
the
same
incorruptible
vision
,
by
as
pure
and
as
rational
a
process
of
identification
—
that
every
man
must
be
judged
for
what
he
is
and
treated
accordingly
,
that
just
as
you
do
not
pay
a
higher
price
for
a
rusty
chunk
of
scrap
than
for
a
piece
of
shining
metal
,
so
you
do
not
value
a
rotter
above
a
hero
—
that
your
moral
appraisal
is
the
coin
paying
men
for
their
virtues
or
vices
,
and
this
payment
demands
of
you
as
scrupulous
an
honor
as
you
bring
to
financial
transactions
—
that
to
withhold
your
contempt
from
men
’
s
vices
is
an
act
of
moral
counterfeiting
,
and
to
withhold
your
admiration
from
their
virtues
is
an
act
of
moral
embezzlement
—
that
to
place
any
other
concern
higher
than
justice
is
to
devaluate
your
moral
currency
and
defraud
the
good
in
favor
of
the
evil
,
since
only
the
good
can
lose
by
a
default
of
justice
and
only
the
evil
can
profit
—
and
that
the
bottom
of
the
pit
at
the
end
of
that
road
,
the
act
of
moral
bankruptcy
,
is
to
punish
men
for
their
virtues
and
reward
them
for
their
vices
,
that
that
is
the
collapse
to
full
depravity
,
the
Black
Mass
of
the
worship
of
death
,
the
dedication
of
your
consciousness
to
the
destruction
of
existence
.
"
It
wasn
’
t
real
,
was
it
?
"
said
Mr
.
Thompson
.
They
stood
in
front
of
the
radio
,
as
the
last
sound
of
Galt
’
s
voice
had
left
them
.
No
one
had
moved
through
the
span
of
silence
;
they
had
stood
,
looking
at
the
radio
,
as
if
waiting
.
But
the
radio
was
now
only
a
wooden
box
with
some
knobs
and
a
circle
of
cloth
stretched
over
an
empty
loud
-
speaker
.
"
We
seem
to
have
heard
it
,
"
said
Tinky
Holloway
.
"
We
couldn
’
t
help
it
,
"
said
Chick
Morrison
.
Mr
.
Thompson
was
sitting
on
a
crate
.
The
pale
,
oblong
smear
at
the
level
of
his
elbow
was
the
face
of
Wesley
Mouch
,
who
was
seated
on
the
floor
.
Far
behind
them
,
like
an
island
in
the
vast
semi
-
darkness
of
the
studio
space
,
the
drawing
room
prepared
for
their
broadcast
stood
deserted
and
fully
lighted
,
a
semicircle
of
empty
armchairs
under
a
cobweb
of
dead
microphones
in
the
glare
of
the
floodlights
which
no
one
had
taken
the
initiative
to
turn
off
.
Mr
.
Thompson
’
s
eyes
were
darting
over
the
faces
around
him
,
as
if
in
search
of
some
special
vibrations
known
only
to
him
.
The
rest
of
them
were
trying
to
do
it
surreptitiously
,
each
attempting
to
catch
a
glimpse
of
the
others
without
letting
them
catch
his
own
glance
.
"
Let
me
out
of
here
!
"
screamed
a
young
third
-
rate
assistant
,
suddenly
and
to
no
one
in
particular
.