History (n.) is just new people making old mistakes.
History (n.) is the history of the struggle between eros and death as dramatized concretely in and through the transmission of cultural demands from generation to generation.
History (n.) is the intra-psychic struggles of the individual writ large.
History (n.) may turn on a chieftain's dream — no mystery once the dream is seen as daytime impulses reinforced by night.
History (n.) is largely the struggle to find a happy accommodation between the individual's claim and the group's — and perhaps the conflict is irreconcilable.
History (n.) as our children learn it at school is essentially a string of murdered peoples.
History (n.) written in an age of reflection expresses present beliefs and wishes more than the past, just as childhood memories do for a person.
History (n.) is most credible where it refuses to flatter: a trait that lends itself to no glorification may very well be true.
History (n.) loves restorations, in which later fusions dissolve and former separations reappear — as the Reformation redrew, after a thousand years, the old frontier of Roman Germania.
History (n.) was written long before anyone had an ideal of objective truth: the first historians shaped their accounts to the needs of the moment with an easy conscience, not yet understanding what falsification meant.