One Thing Is About To Be Finished,

It Is Not Permissible To Add To One's Possesions If These Things Can Only Be Done At The Cost Of Other Men. Such Development Has Only One True Name, And That Is Exploitation.

There Is A Man Sleeping In The Grass. And Over Him Is Gathering The Greatest Storm Of All His Days. Such Lightening And Thunder Will Come There Has Never Been Seen Before, Bringing Death And Destruction. People Hurry Home Past Him, To Places Safe From Danger. And Whether They Do Not See Him There In The Grass, Or Whether They Fear To Halt Even A Moment, But They Do Not Wake Him, They Let Him Be.

Cry, The Beloved Country, For The Unborn Child That Is The Inheritor Of Our Fear. Let Him Not Love The Earth Too Deeply... For Fear Will Rob Him Of All If He Gives Too Much.

The Tragedy Is Not That Things Are Broken. The Tragedy Is That Things Are Not Mended Again.

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.