My Poems Are Like A Dagger Sprouting

We Light The Oven So That Everyone May Bake Bread In It.

But Love, Like The Sun That It Is, Sets Afire And Melts Everything. What Greed And Privilege To Build Up Over Whole Centuries The Indignation Of A Pious Spirit, With Its Natural Following Of Oppressed Souls, Will Cast Down With A Single Shove.

To Use For Our Exclusive Benefit What Is Not Ours Is Theft.

Love Is The Bond Between Men, The Way To Teach And The Center Of The World.

Man Is A Living Duty, A Depository Of Powers That He Must Not Leave In A Brute State. Man Is A Wing.