What Broke In A Man When He

The Tragedy Is Not That Things Are Broken. The Tragedy Is That Things Are Not Mended Again.

I Have One Great Fear In My Heart, That One Day When They Are Turned To Loving, They Will Find That We Are Turned To Hating.

Cry, The Beloved Country, For The Unborn Child That Is The Inheritor Of Our Fear. Let Him Not Love The Earth Too Deeply... For Fear Will Rob Him Of All If He Gives Too Much.

What Broke In A Man When He Could Bring Himself To Kill Another? What Broke When He Could Bring Himself To Thrust Down The Knife Into The Warm Flesh, To Bring Down The Axe On The Living Head, To Cleave Down Between The Seeing Eyes, To Shoot The Gun That Would Drive Death Into The Beating Heart?

I Have Always Found That Actively Loving Saves One From A Morbid Preoccupation With The Shortcomings Of Society.