Who Would Ever Think That So Much

Who Else But Me Is Ever Going To Read These Letters?

Everyone Has Inside Of Him A Piece Of Good News. The Good News Is That You Don't Know How Great You Can Be! How Much You Can Love! What You Can Accomplish! And What Your Potential Is!

They Mustn't Know My Despair, I Can't Let Them See The Wounds Which They Have Caused, I Couldn't Bear Their Sympathy And Their Kind-hearted Jokes, It Would Only Make Me Want To Scream All The More. If I Talk, Everyone Thinks I'm Showing Off; When I'm Silent They Think I'm Ridiculous; Rude If I Answer, Sly If I Get A Good Idea, Lazy If I'm Tired, Selfish If I Eat A Mouthful More Than I Should, Stupid, Cowardly, Crafty, Etc. Etc.

I Can Shake Off Everything As I Write; My Sorrows Disappear, My Courage Is Reborn.

Why Are Millions Spent On The War Each Day, While Not A Penny Is Available For ... Artists Or The Poor? Why Do People Have To Starve When Mountians Of Food Are Rotting Away In Other Parts Of The World? Oh, Why Are People So Crazy?