The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter With

People, Unless They Are Nilly-willy Or Very Sick, Cannot Be Taken Into The Hands And Be Changed Overnight Into Somthing More Worth-while And Profitable.

I Meditated On Love And Reasoned It Out. I Realized What Is Wrong With Us. Men Fall In Love For The First Time. And What Do They Fall In Love With? ...they Fall In Love With A Woman. They Start At The Wrong End Of Love. They Begin At The Climax. Can You Wonder It Is So Miserable? Do You Know How Men Should Love? A Tree. A Rock. A Cloud.

The Memories Of Childhood Have A Strange Shuttling Quality, And Areas Of Darkness Ring The Spaces Of Light. The Memories Of Childhood Are Like Clear Candles In An Acre Of Night, Illuminating Fixed Scenes From Surrounding Darkness.

The Trouble With Me Is That For A Long Time I Have Just Been An I Person. All People Belong To A We Except Me. Not To Belong To A We Makes You Too Lonesome.

... And We Are Not Alone In This Slavery. There Are Millions Of Others Throughout The World, Of All Colors And Races And Creeds. This We Must Remember. There Are Many Of Our People Who Hate The Poor Of The White Race, And They Hate Us. The People In This Town Living By The River Who Work In The Mills. People Who Are Almost As Much In Need As We Are Ourselves. This Hatred Is A Great Evil, And No Good Can Ever Come From It... The Injustice Of Need Must Bring Us All Together And Not Separate Us. We Must Remember That We All Make The Things Of This Earth Of Value Because Of Labor.