The World Is Certainty A Sudden Place.

But You Haven't Never Loved God Nor Even Nair Person. You Hard And Tough As Cowhide. But Just The Same I Knows You. This Afternoon You Going To Roam All Over The Place Without Never Being Satisfied. You Going To Traipse All Around Like You Haves To Find Something Lost. You Going To Work Yourself Up With Excitement. Your Heart Going To Beat Hard Enough To Kill You Because You Don't Love And Don't Have Peace. And Then Some Day You Going To Bust Loose And Be Ruined.

For Fear Is A Primary Source Of Evil. And When The Question "who Am I?" Recurs And Is Unanswered, Then Fear And Frustration Project A Negative Attitude. The Bewildered Soul Can Answer Only: "since I Do Not Understand 'who I Am,' I Only Know What I Am Not." The Corollary Of This Emotional Incertitude Is Snobbism, Intolerance And Racial Hate. The Xenophobic Individual Can Only Reject And Destroy, As The Xenophobic Nation Inevitably Makes War.

All Men Are Lonely. But Sometimes It Seems To Me That We Americans Are The Loneliest Of All. Our Hunger For Foreign Places And New Ways Has Been With Us Almost Like A National Disease. Our Literature Is Stamped With A Quality Of Longing And Unrest, And Our Writers Have Been Great Wanderers.

For You See, When Us People Who Know Run Into Each Other That's An Event. It Almost Never Happens. Sometimes We Meet Each Other And Neither Guesses That The Other Is One Who Knows. That's A Bad Thing. It's Happened To Me A Lot Of Times. But You See There Are So Few Of Us.

There Was Hope In Him, And Soon Perhaps The Outline Of His Journey Would Take Form.