He is crucified on every crucifix.
Yonder among the fields are churches, demolished by war; and already men are coming with mattock and masonry to raise the walls again.

The ray of his outstretched arm shines in space, and his clear voice says: "Build not the churches again.

They are not what you think they were.
Build them not again." * * * * * * There is no remedy but in them whom peace sentences to hard labor, and whom war sentences to death.

There is no redress except among the poor.
* * * * * * White shapes seem to return into the white room.

Truth is simple.
They who say that truth is complicated deceive themselves, and the truth is not in them.