If we could read the secret history of our enemies, we should find in each man's life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility.

What we need is not the will to believe, but the wish to find out.

Just for a handful of silver he left us, Just for a riband to stick in his coat.

We take no note of time but from its loss.

When you really know somebody you can't hate them Or maybe it's just that you can't really know them until you stop hating them Is that a circular paradox? Dom…

I rarely saw them as individuals. It was always a huge mass...they were naked, packed together, running, being driven with whips.

Perhaps travel cannot prevent bigotry, but by demonstrating that all peoples cry, laugh, eat, worry, and die, it can introduce the idea that if we try and unde…