A history book in the hands of a learned man is no different than the crystal ball in the palms of a fortune teller.

Do I believe in superheroes? No, the older I have gotten, the more I have fallen in love with the idea that not the extraordinary or the supernatural has merely been imbued with human characteristics, rather the idea that within humanity lies the greatness. My heroes have always been real people.

Perhaps it is fitting that the best of our kind are so plagued with sadness, having seen so much of it themselves, the desire to inflict the same in those around them never truly takes root.

If age was the only begetter of wisdom, then why are we not lead by corpses?

Such is the painful lesson is war, that in life those that lay lead dead on the battlefield could not see the bond in one another and killed each other. Sharing the same womb of the earth in extinction as brothers share the same womb from they took existence. Made to be brothers in death simply because they could not see the brotherhood they shared in life.

Just as a child clings to his parent,  it, in fear of the night that dare engulf it, so to will our democracy will cling to education and the educated against the encroaching darkness of hate. For it is the open door of a school that leads to open door of the polling booth. It is imperative that we understand that by empowering the parent, we empower the child.

He who in this life realizes to love is to surrender, will not witness his heart tamed by feebleness.

To be respected is to obtain mastery of the past, to be feared is to make ones domain of the future. To be both however, is to take command of the crossroads that between both past and future, the present.

He who is wise, is he who has surrendered himself to the eternal truths rather than fallen at the feet of the lies of our times.

If money was really a measure of mans worth, then why are not the temples and courts of the world staffed by accountants?