It Is My Belief That The Only

There Is Only One Way In Which One Can Endure Man's Inhumanity To Man And That Is To Try, In One's Own Life, To Exemplify Man's Humanity To Man.

The Ground Is Holy, Being Even As It Came From The Creator. Keep It, Guard It, Care For It, For It Keeps Men, Guards Men, Cares For Men. Destroy It And Man Is Destroyed.

There Is Not Much Talking Now. A Silence Falls Upon Them All. This Is No Time To Talk Of Hedges And Fields, Or The Beauties Of Any Country. Sadness And Fear And Hate, How They Well Up In The Heart And Mind, Whenever One Opens Pages Of These Messengers Of Doom. Cry For The Broken Tribe, For The Law And The Custom That Is Gone. Aye, And Cry Aloud For The Man Who Is Dead, For The Woman And Children Bereaved. Cry, The Beloved Country, These Things Are Not Yet At An End. The Sun Pours Down On The Earth, On The Lovely Land That Man Cannot Enjoy. He Knows Only The Fear Of His Heart.

The Only Way In Which One Can Make Endurable Man's Inhumanity To Man, And Man's Destruction Of His Own Environment, Is To Exemplify In Your Own Lives Man's Humanity To Man And Man's Reverence For The Place In Which He Lives.

Who Knows For What We Live, And Struggle, And Die?... Wise Men Write Many Books, In Words Too Hard To Understand. But This, The Purpose Of Our Lives, The End Of All Our Struggle, Is Beyond All Human Wisdom.