But there is a discomfort that surrounds grief. It makes even the most well-intentioned people unsure of what to say. And so many of the freshly bereaved end up feeling even more alone.
After so many years, I feel more American than anything else, but I’m also Romanian and whatever other oddities of temperament I picked up elsewhere, in Transylvania or France, for instance. These days, everybody is both an exile and a resident – they don’t call it the global village for nothing.
How many condemnations I have witnessed more criminal than the crime!
Perseverance is more prevailing than violence; and many things which cannot be overcome when they are together, yield themselves up when taken little by little.
Jails and prisons are the complement of schools; so many less as you have of the latter, so many more must you have of the former.
In many respects, the United States is a great country. Freedom of speech is protected more than in any other country. It is also a very free society.
It’s because I work in ethics, and, more specifically, applied ethics, that I think it’s important that if you have things to say that you think are right and you think could make the world a better place, it’s important that many people read about them.
I could have easily been a statistic. Growing up in Brooklyn, N.Y., it was easy – a little too easy – to get into trouble. Surrounded by poor schools, lack of resources, high unemployment rates, poverty, gangs and more, I watched as many of my peers fell victim to a vicious cycle of diminished opportunities and imprisonment.
Nothing is more surprising than the easiness with which the many are governed by the few.
We see many who are struggling against adversity who are happy, and more although abounding in wealth, who are wretched.