The Greatest Tragedy In Life Is People

Look The World Straight In The Eye.

Observers In The Full Enjoyment Of Their Bodily Senses Pity Me, But It Is Because They Do Not See The Golden Chamber In My Life Where I Dwell Delighted; For, Dark As My Path May Seem To Them, I Carry A Magic Light In My Heart. Faith, The Spiritual Strong Searchlight, Illumines The Way, And Although Sinister Doubts Lurk In The Shadow, I Walk Unafraid Towards The Enchanted Wood Where The Foliage Is Always Green, Where Joy Abides, Where Nightingales Nest And Sing, And Where Life And Death Are One In The Presence Of The Lord.

I Have Found Out That Though The Ways In Which I Can Make Myself Useful Are Few, Yet The Work Open To Me Is Endless.

Where Once Stood The Steadfast Pines, Great, Beautiful, Sweet, My Hand Touched Raw, Moist Stumps. All About Lay Broken Branches, Like The Antlers Of Stricken Deer. The Fragrant, Piled-up Sawdust Swirled And Tumbled About Me. An Unreasoning Resentment Flashed Through Me At The Ruthless Destruction Of The Beauty That I Love.

I Have Visited Sweatshops, Factories, And Crowded Slums. If I Could Not See It, I Could Smell It. The Foundation Of Society Is Laid Upon A Basis Of . . . Individualism, Conquest And Exploitation . . . A Social Order Such As This, Built Upon Such Wrong And Basic Principles, Is Bound To Retard The Development Of All. The Output Of A Cotton Mill Or A Coal Mine Is Considered Of Greater Importance Than The Production Of Healthy, Happy-hearted And Free Human Beings. We, The People, Are Not Free. Our Democracy Is But A Name.