I idolize those who speak truth. The poets and artists of the world. And especially the ones who bring peace. "It’s a wonder I haven’t abandoned all my ideals, they seem so absurd and impractical. Yet I cling to them because I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart. It’s utterly impossible for me to build my life on a foundation of chaos, suffering and death. I see the world being slowly transformed into a wilderness, I hear the approaching thunder that, one day, will destroy us too, I feel the suffering of millions. And yet, when I look up at the sky, I somehow feel that everything will change for the better, that this cruelty too shall end, that peace and tranquility will return once more" - July 15, 1944 "The better mind of the world desires today not absolutely independent stares warring one against another, but a federation of friendly interdependent states." "Interdependence is and ought to be as much the ideal of man as self-sufficiency. Man is a social being. Without interrelation with society he cannot realize its oneness with the universe or suppress his egotism." The Exchange Once upon a crossroad a poor Poet met a rich Stupid, and they conversed. And all that they said revealed but their discontent. Then the Angel of the Road passed by, and he laid his hand upon the shoulder of the two men. And behold, a miracle: The two men had now exchanged their possessions. And they parted. But strange to relate, the Poet looked and found naught in his hand but dry moving sand; and the Stupid closed his eyes and felt naught but moving cloud in his heart. Close the Language-Door There is some kiss we want with our whole lives, the touch of Spirit on the body. Seawater begs the pearl to break its shell. And the lily, how passionately it needs some wild Darling! At night, I open the window and ask the moon to come and press its face against mine. Breathe into me. Close the language-door, and open the love-window The moon won't use the door, only the window.