So, friends, every day do something that won't compute. Love the Lord. Love the world. Work for nothing. Take all that you have and be poor. Love someone who does not deserve it. Denounce the government and embrace the flag. Hope to live in that free republic for which it stands.

The mercy of the world is time. Time does not stop for love, but it does not stop for death and grief, either.

Because by definition they lack any sense of mutuality or wholeness, our specializations subsist on conflict with one another. The rule is never to cooperate, but rather to follow one's own interest as far as possible. Checks and balances are all applied externally, by opposition, never by self-restraint. Labor, management, the military, the government, etc., never forbear until their excesses arouse enough opposition to force them to do so.

Beauty . . . cannot be interpreted. It is not an empirically verifiable fact; it is not a quantity.

Waking up from a dream of violence is much the same as waking up from a dream of love. You must go on living your life.

But our waste problem is not the fault only of producers. It is the fault of an economy that is wasteful from top to bottom-a symbiosis of an unlimited greed at the top and a lazy, passive, and self-indulgent consumptiveness at the bottom-and all of us are involved in it.

It is easy for me to imagine that the next great division of the world will be between people who wish to live as creatures and people who wish to live as machines.