Dying In A A War Never Stopped

For Each Joan Of Arc There Is A Hitler Perched At The Other End Of The Teeter-totter.

To Not To Have Entirely Wasted One’s Life Seems To Be A Worthy Accomplishment, If Only For Myself.

There Still Might Be A Place For Us Somewhere.

I Only Want Sweet Peace And Kindliness When I Awaken -- But There's Always Some Finger Pointing, Telling Me Some Terrible Deed I Committed During The Night. It Seems I Make A Lot Of Mistakes And It Seems That I Am Not Allowed Any.

Why Do You Insist Upon Destroying Yourself?