When the Stranger says: 'What is the meaning of this city ? Do you huddle close together because you love each other?' What will you answer? 'We all dwell together To make money from each other'? or 'This is a community'?

And the wind shall say: 'Here were decent godless people: Their only monument the asphalt road And a thousand lost golf balls.'

Oh my soul, be prepared for the coming of the Stranger. Be prepared for him who knows how to ask questions.

I have given you the power of choice, and you only alternate Between futile speculation and unconsidered action.