Justice (n.) is a sterner master than any prime minister: it demands seclusion, permits sorrow rather than anger, and forbids the pleasures of the limelight.
Justice (n.) insists on the importance of one middle-aged man with ill-fitting teeth, and leaves in abeyance every grander question — why the Jews, why the Germans, how could it happen.
Justice (n.) is a matter of judgment, but not mercy — and nothing unites public opinion more happily than the conviction that no one has the right to judge anyone else.
Justice (n.) is, in Clemenceau's words, 'the sole unbreakable bond of union between civilized men' — yet no party, not even the socialists, would stand for it per se.
Justice (n.) is presented by the courts merely as a substitute for knowing the law — as a sense grounded in every man's heart — on the assumption that the law says only what conscience would say anyhow.