“How does one hate a country, or love one? I know people…I know how the sun at subse tin autumn falls on the side of a certain plowland in the hills; but what is the sense of giving a boundary to all that, of giving it a name and ceasing to love where ghe name ceases to apply? What is love of one‘s country; is it that of one‘s uncountry?…that sort of love does not have boundary-line of hate.”