Hell's Bells Ringing, My Secret Music.

The Finest Thing Under The Sun And Moon Is The Human Soul. I Marvel At The Small Miracles Of Kindness That Pass Between Humans, I Marvel At The Growth Of Conscience, At The Persistence Of Reason In The Face Of All Superstition Or Despair. I Marvel At Human Endurance.

Roman Influence Seeds Itself, Sprouting Mighty Oaks Right Through The Modern Forest Of Computers, Digital Disks, Microviruses And Space Satellites.

No Matter How Long We Exist, We Have Our Memories. Points In Time Which Time Itself Cannot Erase. Suffering May Distort My Backward Glances, But Even To Suffering, Some Memories Will Yield Nothing Of Their Beauty Or Their Splendor. Rather They Remain As Hard As Gems.

You Have Made Me Ashamed Of The Wasted Years. You Have Made Me Acknowledge That No Darkness Has Ever Been Deep Enough To Extinguish My Personal Knowledge Of Love. And All Around Me In This World I See Evidence Of Love. I See Love. I See It In The Human Struggle. I See Its Undeniable Penetration In All That Humans Have Accomplished In Their Poetry, Their Painting, Their Music, Their Love Of One Another And Refusal To Accept Suffering As Their Lot.

It Is Not Man Who Is The Enemy Of The Human Species. It Is The Irrational; It Is The Spiritual When It Is Divorced From The Material; From The Lesson In One Beating Heart Or One Bleeding Vein.