The Examined Life Is No Picnic.

I Do Not Want To Know What You Will Hope For. I Want To Know What You Will Work For. I Do Not Want Your Sympathy For The Needs Of Humanity. I Want Your Muscle. As The Wagon Driver Said When They Came To A Long, Hard Hill: ‘them That’s Going On With Us, Get Out And Push. Them That Ain’t, Get Out Of The Way’.

Remember, Most Of Us Got Something For Nothing The First Time Just By Showing Up Here At Birth. Now We Have To Qualify.

I Am A Fragment Of A Mirror Whose Whole Design And Shape I Do Not Know. Nevertheless, With What I Have - I Can Reflect Light Into The Dark Places Of This World - Into The Black Places In The Hearts Of Men - And Change Somethings In Some People. Perhaps Others May See And Do Likewise. This Is What I Am About. This Is The Meaning Of My Life.

If We Could Just Figure Out How To Have More Fun At It, Maybe More Of Us Would Join The Ranks Of Those Who Seek After Justice And Mercy.

It's Just This: That There Are Places We All Come From-deep-rooty-common Places- That Makes Us Who We Are. And We Disdain Them Or Treat Them Lightly At Our Peril. We Turn Our Backs On Them At The Risk Of Self-contempt. There Is A Sense In Which We Need To Go Home Again-and Can Go Home Again. Not To Recover Home, No. But To Sanctify Memory.