We Live On Because We

The Contrast Between The Familiar And The Exceptional Was Everywhere Around Me. A Bullock Cart Was Drawn Up Beside A Modern Sports Car At A Traffic Signal. A Man Squatted To Relieve Himself Behind The Discreet Shelter Of A Satellite Dish. An Electric Forklift Truck Was Being Used To Unload Goods From An Ancient Wooden Cart With Wooden Wheels. The Impression Was Of A Plodding Indefatigable And Distant Past That Had Crashed Intact Through Barriers Of Time Into Its Own Future. I Liked It.

The Tears, When They Come To Some Men, Are Worse Than Beatings. They're Wounded Worse By Sobbing, Men Like That, Than They Are By Boots And Batons. Tears Begin In The Heart, But Some Of Us Deny The Heart So Often, And For So Long, That When It Speaks We Hear Not One But A Hundred Sorrows In The Heartbreak. We Know That Crying Is A Good And Natural Thing. We Know That Crying Isn't A Weakness, But A Kind Of Strength. Still, The Weeping Rips Us Root By Tangled Root From The Earth, And We Crash Like Fallen Trees When We Cry.

Sooner Or Later, Fate Puts Us Together With All The People, One By One, Who Show Us What We Could, And Shouldn’t, Let Ourselves Become. Sooner Or Later We Meet The Drunkard, The Waster, The Betrayer, The Ruthless Mind, And The Hate-filled Heart. But Fate Loads The Dice, Of Course, Because We Usually Find Ourselves Loving Or Pitying Almost All Of Those People. And It’s Impossible To Despise Someone You Honestly Pity, And To Shun Someone You Truly Love.

There's No Believing In God...we Either Know God, Or We Don't.

Poverty And Pride Are Devoted Blood Brothers Until One, Always And Inevitably, Kills The Other.