Strike Against War, For Without You No

Every One Of Us Is Blind And Deaf Until Our Eyes Are Opened To Our Fellowmen, Until Our Ears Hear The Voice Of Humanity.

Our Democracy Is But A Name. We Vote? What Does That Mean? It Means That We Choose Between Two Bodies Of Real, Though Not Avowed, Autocrats. We Choose Between Tweedledum And Tweedledee.

I Sometimes Wonder If The Hand Is Not More Sensitive To The Beauties Of Sculpture Than The Eye. I Should Think The Wonderful Rhythmical Flow Of Lines And Curves Could Be More Subtly Felt Than Seen. Be This As It May, I Know That I Can Feel The Heart-throbs Of The Ancient Greeks In Their Marble Gods And Goddesses.

Museums And Art Stores Are Also Sources Of Pleasure And Inspiration. Doubtless It Will Seem Strange To Many That The Hand Unaided By Sight Can Feel Action, Sentiment, Beauty In The Cold Marble; And Yet It Is True That I Derive Genuine Pleasure From Touching Great Works Of Art. As My Finger Tips Trace Line And Curve, They Discover The Thought And Emotion Which The Artist Has Portrayed.

Poetry Is The Gate Through Which I Enter The Land Of Enchantment. Once Inside The Flaming Wall, My Limitations Fall From Me, And My Spirit Is Free.