To Andrew Joseph Onderdonk
Via Santo Stefano Rotondo, 6
Roma. Jan. 20, 1945
Perhaps the years since we last saw each other, and the many since we saw each other often–34!–have made me more inhuman than ever; but public and private tragedies move me now much less than they did. I think of all the empires reduced to filthy little heaps of ruins; of all the battles and sieges in the histories, and all the horrible fates of potentates, tyrants, patriots, and saints; and what now happens to us seems almost a matter of course. But the advance of the U.S. to the full glare of the footlights, and the corresponding moral and intellectual effects to be expected in the American character, interest me very much. I almost wish I were young and could live to see this development. But no: I am glad I am old, very old; and I hope to leave the scene with gentle emotions and good will towards everybody.
From The Letters of George Santayana: Book Seven, 1941-1947. Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 2006.
Location of manuscript: Butler Library, Columbia University, New York NY