I'd Like To Die With

Because Success Is Such A Weasel Word Anyway, It's Such A Horribly American Word, And It's Such A Vamp And, I Think It's A Death Trap.

Sometime In Your Life, Hope That You Might See One Starved Man, The Look On His Face When The Bread Finally Arrives. Hope That You Might Have Baked It Or Bought Or Even Kneaded It Yourself. For That Look On His Face, For Your Meeting His Eyes Across A Piece Of Bread, You Might Be Willing To Lose A Lot, Or Suffer A Lot, Or Die A Little, Even.

But How Shall We Educate Men To Goodness, To A Sense Of One Another, To A Love Of Truth? And More Urgently, How Shall We Do This In A Bad Time?

One Is Called To Live Nonviolently, Even If The Change One Works For Seems Impossible. It May Or May Not Be Possible To Turn The Us Around Through Nonviolent Revolution. But One Thing Favors Such An Attempt: The Total Inability Of Violence To Change Anything For The Better

Of Course, Let Us Have Peace, We Cry, "but At The Same Time Let Us Have Normalcy, Let Us Lose Nothing, Let Our Lives Stand Intact, Let Us Know Neither Prison Nor Ill Repute Nor Disruption Of Ties ... " There Is No Peace Because There Are No Peacemakers. There Are No Makers Of Peace Because The Making Of Peace Is At Least As Costly As The Making Of War - At Least As Exigent, At Least As Disruptive, At Least As Liable To Bring Disgrace And Prison, And Death In Its Wake.