The past is prophetic in that it asserts loudly that wars are poor chisels for carving out peaceful tomorrows.
He ate and drank the precious Words, his Spirit grew robust; He knew no more that he was poor, nor that his frame was Dust.
In a change of masters the poor change nothing except their master’s name.
The poor don’t know that their function in life is to exercise our generosity.
Planning ahead is a measure of class. The rich and even the middle class plan for future generations, but the poor can plan ahead only a few weeks or days.
Global poverty is the product of reversible policy failures overseen by politicians, past and present. The poorest of the poor don’t vote in American or European elections. They don’t make donations to political parties or hire lobbyists in D.C., London or Canberra.
Love and trust and justice, concern for the poor, that’s being pushed to the margins, and you can see it.
When the rich wage war, it’s the poor who die.
I would be a traitor to these poor burned bodies if I came here to talk good fellowship.
I was born poor and without religion, under a happy sky, feeling harmony, not hostility, in nature. I began not by feeling torn, but in plenitude.