We are all alike, on the inside.
How is it they live in such harmony the billions of stars – when most men can barely go a minute without declaring war in their minds about someone they know.
No man or woman can be strong, gentle, pure, and good, without the world being better for it and without someone being helped and comforted by the very existence of that goodness.
Alas! how little does the memory of these human inhabitants enhance the beauty of the landscape!
Somewhere, everywhere, now hidden, now apparent in what ever is written down, is the form of a human being. If we seek to know him, are we idly occupied?
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