We All Had To Pay, But Not

There Is Little Consolation In The Fact That Millions Of People Are Unhappier Than We Are. Why Should Other People's Misery Make Us Happier Or More Content?

Art Is No Longer Snobbish Or Cowardly. It Teaches Peasants To Use Tractors, Gives Lyrics To Young Soldiers, Designs Textiles For Factory Women's Dresses, Writes Burlesque For Factory Theatres, Does A Hundred Other Useful Tasks. Art Is As Usueful As Bread.

America Was Based On A Poetic Vision. What Will Happen When It Loses Its Poetry?

Only Curiosity About The Fate Of Others, The Ability To Put Ourselves In Their Shoes, And The Will To Enter Their World Through The Magic Of Imagination, Creates This Shock Of Recognition. Without This Empathy There Can Be No Genuine Dialogue, And We As Individuals And Nations Will Remain Isolated And Alien, Segregated And Fragmented.

We All Had To Pay, But Not For The Crimes We Were Accused Of. There Were Other Scores To Settle.