What I want is so simple I almost can't say it: elementary kindness.

The very least you can do in your life is figure out what you hope for. And the most you can do is live inside that hope. Not admire it from a distance but live right in it, under its roof.

The very least you can do in your life is to figure out what you hope for. And the most you can do is live inside that hope.

The very least you can do in your life is to figure out what you hope for. And the most you can do is live inside that hope. Not admire it from a distance but live right in it, under its roof. What I want is so simple I almost can’t say it: elementary kindness. Enough to eat, enough to go around. The possibility that kids might one day grow up to be neither the destroyers nor the destroyed. That’s about it. Right now I'm living in that hope, running down its hallway and touching the walls on both sides.

Few people know so clearly what they want. Most people can't even think what to hope for when they throw a penny in a fountain.

The flowers were beaten down, their bent-over heads bejeweled with diamond droplets like earring on sad, rich widows