I'm Afraid I Did Not Pray Hard

A Large Group Of Us Were Crowded Into The Gestapo Hall, And At That Moment The Circumstances Of All Our Lives Were The Same. All Of Us Occupied The Same Space, The Men Behind The Desk No Less Than Those About To Be Questioned. What Distinguished Each Of Us Was Only Our Inner Attitude.

Such Words As 'god' And 'death' And 'suffering' And 'eternity' Are Best Forgotten. We Have To Become As Simple And As Wordless As The Growing Corn Or The Falling Rain. We Must Just Be.

Despite Everything, Life Is Full Of Beauty And Meaning.

It Is The Only Thing We Can Do. Each Of Us Must Turn Inward And Destroy In Himself All That He Thinks He Ought To Destroy In Others. And Remember That Every Atom Of Hate That We Add To This World Makes It Sill More Inhospitable

Sometimes I Long For A Convent Cell, With The Sublime Wisdom Of Centuries Set Out On Bookshelves All Along The Wall And A View Across The Cornfields--there Must Be Cornfields And They Must Wave In The Breeze--and There I Would Immerse Myself In The Wisdom Of The Ages And In Myself. Then I Might Perhaps Find Peace And Clarity. But That Would Be No Great Feat. It Is Right Here, In This Very Place, In The Here And The Now, That I Must Find Them.