I Have Only My Own Burden To

Each Morning We Must Hold Out The Chalice Of Our Being To Receive, To Carry, And Give Back. It Must Be Held Out Empty - For The Past Must Only Be Reflected In Its Polish, Its Shape, Its Capacity.

Acts Of Violence-- Whether On A Large Or A Small Scale, The Bitter Paradox: The Meaningfulness Of Death--and The Meaninglessness Of Killing.

Smiling, Sincere, Incorruptible - His Body Disciplined And Limber. A Man Who Had Become What He Could, And Was What He Was- Ready At Any Moment To Gather Everything Into One Simple Sacrifice.

Destiny Is Something Not Be To Desired And Not To Be Avoided. A Mystery Not Contrary To Reason, For It Implies That The World, And The Course Of Human History, Have Meaning.

You Take The Pen, And The Lines Dance. You Take The Flute And The Notes Shimmer. You Take The Brush, And The Colors Sing. So All Things Have Meaning And Beauty In That Space Beyond Time Where You Are. How, Then, Can I Hold Back Anything From You?