All Men Are Mortal

Insects were scurrying about in the shade cast by the grass, and the lawn was a huge monotonous forest of thousands of little green blades, all equal, all alike, hiding the world from each other. Anguished, she thought, "I don't want to be just another blade of grass.

There's something tragic about you. Your feeling for the absolute. You were made to believe in God and spend your life in a convent.'

There are too many with that vocation. God would have had to love only me.

Un giorno un uomo mi ha detto: esiste un solo bene, agire secondo la propria coscienza. Credo che avesse ragione, e che tutti gli sforzi che abbiamo la pretesa di fare per gli altri non servano a niente.