Liberals have always had a problem with Bill Buckley, though it is not what many suppose. He was a very engaging man. And I mean every word of that sentence. The first thing you noticed about him was his joy; it streamed from his eyes; it flashed in his smile. And joy, as C.S. Lewis reminds us, is the talisman of a sentient and grateful being. To be under the grace of God is to be joyful. That Bill was engaging no one will deny. And here was the problem that liberals fortunate enough to be counted among his friends struggled with for as long as God permitted him to remain among us: When he and his wife, Pat, invited you into their home, you partook of their friendship, and Bill's capacity for friendship was as large as his capacity for joy. His assault on the heart was irresistible. For liberals who wanted to preserve the pinata they treasured in their minds whenever they summoned up a conservative for flogging, this was a problem. Try to imagine a furnace in which all the pet...
go home from us in peace. We seek not your counsel or your arms. Crouch down and lick the hand that feeds you;
may your chains set lightly upon you, and may posterity forget that ye were our countrymen!"
--Samuel Adams