Tom and Amory and Alec had reached an impasse; never did they seem to have new experiences in common, for Tom and Alec had been as blindly busy with their committees and boards as Amory had been blindly idling, and the things they had for dissection--college, contemporary personality and the like--they had hashed and rehashed for many a frugal conversational meal.
That night they discussed the clubs until twelve, and, in the main, they agreed with Burne.

To the roommates it did not seem such a vital subject as it had in the two years before, but the logic of Burne's objections to the social system dovetailed so completely with everything they had thought, that they questioned rather than argued, and envied the sanity that enabled this man to stand out so against all traditions.
Then Amory branched off and found that Burne was deep in other things as well.

Economics had interested him and he was turning socialist.
Pacifism played in the back of his mind, and he read The Masses and Lyoff Tolstoi faithfully.
"How about religion ?" Amory asked him.
"Don't know.

I'm in a muddle about a lot of things--I've just discovered that I've a mind, and I'm starting to read." "Read what ?" "Everything.

I have to pick and choose, of course, but mostly things to make me think.