The Point Of Life Is

For Men Tied Fast To The Absolute, Bled Of Their Differences, Drained Of Their Dreams By Authoritarian Leeches Until Nothing But Pulp Is Left, Become A Massive, Sick Thing Whose Sheer Weight Is Used Ruthlessly By Ambitious Men. Here Is The Real Enemy Of The People: Our Own Selves Dehumanized Into The Masses. And Where Is The David Who Can Slay This Giant?

Segregation Is Evil; There Is No Pattern Of Life Which Can Dehumanize Men As Can The Way Of Segregation.

To Believe In Something Not Yet Proved And To Underwrite It With Our Lives: It Is The Only Way We Can Leave The Future Open. Man, Surrounded By Facts, Permitting Himself No Surmise, No Intuitive Flash, No Great Hypothesis, No Risk, Is In A Locked Cell. Ignorance Cannot Seal The Mind And Imagination More Surely.

When You Stop Learning, Stop Listening, Stop Looking And Asking Questions, Always New Questions, Then It Is Time To Die.

To Find The Point Where Hypothesis And Fact Meet; The Delicate Equilibrium Between Dream And Reality; The Place Where Fantasy And Earthly Things Are Metamorphosed Into A Work Of Art; The Hour When Faith In The Future Becomes Knowledge Of The Past; To Lay Down One's Power For Others In Need; To Shake Off The Old Ordeal And Get Ready For The New; To Question, Knowing That Never Can The Full Answer Be Found; To Accept Uncertainties Quietly, Even Our Incomplete Knowledge Of God; This Is What Man's Journey Is About, I Think.