I don't know how to make the critics happy!
Raising children should mean helping them to become what they already are in God’s eyes.
Only those who look with the eyes of children can lose themselves in the object of their wonder.
Every child is a thought in the mind of God, and our task is to recognize this thought and help it toward completion.
We need to reach the millions who live in cities, the hundreds of thousands in industrial centers, the tens of thousands in medium-sized towns, the thousands in small towns, and the hundreds in villages -- all these at once. Like a volcanic eruption, a spiritual revolution needs to spread through the country, to spur people to crucial decisions. People have to recognize the futility of splitting life up into politics, economics, the humanities, and religion. We must be awakened to a life in which all of these things are completely integrated.
After all, the living book of God's creation lies open for all to see; it points constantly to the divine calling for which we were placed in nature. Nature is a continual admonition to us, for nowhere has God's creation departed so far from its origin and primeval purpose as in the human race.
And the desire to own property, to take for ourselves things which in no way belong to us, does not stop short at the sun. The air is already bought and sold as a commodity, by health resorts. And what of water? Or waterpower? Why should the earth be parceled out into private hands? Is it any different from the sun? No; the earth belongs to the people who live on it. God intended it for them, but it has been taken over by private individuals. Privare means to steal. Thus private property is stolen property - property stolen from God and from humankind!
New York City is my playground.
I did come up with the term "sack" to describe the devastation I was bringing on the poor, cringing quarterbacks in the NFL. "Sack the quarterback. " That was nice. I thought it was lots better than saying, "Jones tackles the QB behind the line for another loss of yardage. . . " It had a ring to it, and it caught on with the sports writers. But I tell you, doing it was a lot more fun than talking about it.
Dear future generations: Please accept our apologies. We were rolling drunk on petroleum.
New York's the lonesomest place in the world if you don't know anybody.