The likelihood that your acts of resistance cannot stop the injustice does not exempt you from acting in what you sincerely and reflectively hold to be the best interests of your community.

Develop interest in life as you see it; in people, things, literature, music — the world is so rich, simply throbbing with rich treasures, beautiful souls and interesting people. Forget yourself.

In the Colonies, we issue our own paper money. It is called 'Colonial Scrip.' We issue it in proper proportion to make the goods and pass easily from the producers to the consumers. In this manner, creating ourselves our own paper money, we control its purchasing power and we have no interest to pay to no one.

You see, a legitimate government can both spend and lend money into circulation, while banks can only lend significant amounts of their promissory bank notes, for they can neither give away nor spend but a tiny fraction of the money the people need. Thus, when your bankers here in England place money in circulation, there is always a debt principal to be returned and usury to be paid. The result is that you have always too little credit in circulation to give the workers full employment. You do not have too many workers, you have too little money in circulation, and that which circulates, all bears the endless burden of unpayable debt and usury.

There is a difference between interest and commitment. When you're interested in doing something, you do it only when it's convenient. When you've committed to do something, you accept no excuses, only results.

The United States is the most powerful among the technically advanced countries in the world today. Its influence on the shaping of international relations is absolutely incalculable. But America is a large country, and its people have so far not shown much interest in great international problems, among which the problem of disarmament occupies first place today.

This must be changed, if only in America’s own interest. The last war has shown that there are no longer any barriers between the continents and that the destinies of all countries are closely interwoven. The people of this country must realize that they have a great responsibility in the sphere of international politics. The part of passive spectator is unworthy of this country and is bound in the end to lead to disaster all round.

In order to thrive as artists — and, one could argue, as people — we need to be available to the universal flow. When we put a stopper on our capacity for joy by anorectically desclining the small gifts of life, we turn aside the larger gifts as well. Those of us who have styumied the work flow completely will find ourselves in lives that feel barren and devoid of interest no matter how many meaningless things we have filled them with. What gives us true joy? That is the question to ask.

All of us are creative. Some of us get the mirroring to know we are creative, but few of us get the mirroring to know how creative. What most of us get is the worried advice that if we are thinking about a life in the arts, we'd better to plan to have "something to fall back on." Would they tell us that if we expressed an interest in banking? It could be argued that as people and as artists, we are what we are — however, we also become ourselves, all of ourselves, by having our largness mirrored back to us. Too often we lack such mirrors. No magic wand taps our life to make us into what we dream.

The idea that the biggest secret of making art might just be making some art is a conclusion the ego works very hard to avoid. The eggo wants us to be "in the mood" to make art at the very least. And yet, as any working artist will honestly tell you, waiting for the mood is a huge time waster. We are married to our art and just as the first caress can lead to interest between a long-married couple, the first lick of work can lead to an appetite for work. In other words, mood more often follows action than instigates.

Such is the inconsistency of real love, that it is always awake to suspicion, however unreasonable; always requiring new assurances from the object of its interest.

The case has, in some respects, been not entirely devoid of interest.