Now days are dragon-ridden, the nightmare Rides upon sleep: a drunken soldiery Can leave the mother, murdered at her door, To crawl in her own blood, and go scot-free.

All teeth were drawn, all ancient tricks unlearned, And a great army but a showy thing; What matter that no cannon had been turned Into a ploughshare?

The night can sweat with terror as before We pieced our thoughts into philosophy, And planned to bring the world under a rule, Who are but weasels fighting in …

O what fine thought we had because we thought That the worst rogues and rascals had died out.

Then what is the answer? - Not to be deluded by dreams. To know that great civilizations have broken down into violence, and their tyrants come, many times bef…

For there is another kind of violence, slower but just as deadly destructive as the shot or the bomb in the night. This is the violence of institutions; indiff…

Violence and racism are bad. Whenever they occur they are to be condemned (and) we should not turn a blind eye to them.