For Art To Be 'unpolitical' Means Only

Of All The Works Of Man I Like Best Those Which Have Been Used. The Copper Pots With Their Dents And Flattened Edges The Knives And Forks Whose Wooden Handles Have Been Worn Away By Many Hands: Such Forms Seemed To Me The Noblest.

The First Time It Was Reported That Our Friends Were Being Butchered There Was A Cry Of Horror. Then A Hundred Were Butchered. But When A Thousand Were Butchered And There Was No End To The Butchery, A Blanket Of Silence Spread. When Evil-doing Comes Like Falling Rain, Nobody Calls Out "stop!" When Crimes Begin To Pile Up They Become Invisible. When Sufferings Become Unendurable The Cries Are No Longer Heard. The Cries, Too, Fall Like Rain In Summer.

Hungry Man, Reach For The Book: It Is A Weapon.

Though The Rich Of This Earth Find No Difficulty In Creating Misery, They Can't Bear To See It.

Then I Will Tell You Something. I Do Not Believe In It. Forty Years Among Men Has Consistently Taught Me That They Are Not Amenable To Commonsense. Show Them The Red Tail Of A Comet, Fill Them With Black Terror, And They Will All Come Running Out Of Their Houses And Break Their Legs. But Tell Them One Sensible Proposition, And Support It With Seven Reasons, And They Will Simply Laugh In Your Face.