"You told me," I said, "that I should turn this house into a boardinghouse for students. Well, there are better things I could do with it. I could turn it into a haven for beggars. I could run a soup kitchen and a dormitory. But I don't. Why not? Because the spirit of charity has perished in this country. Because those who accept charity despise it, while those who give give with a despairing heart. What is the point of charity when it does not go from heart to heart? What do you think charity is? Soup? Money? Charity: from the Latin word for the heart. It is as hard to receive as to give. it takes as much effort. I wish you would learn that. I wish you would learn something instead of just lying around."

A lie: charity, caritas, has nothing to do with the heart. But what does it matter if my sermons rest on false etymologies? He barely listens when i speak to him. Perhaps, despite those keen bird-eyes, he is more befuddled with drink than I know. Or perhaps, finally, he does not care. Care: the true root of charity. I look for him to care, and he does not. Because he is beyond caring. Beyond caring and beyond care

It occurs to me that we crush insects beneath our feet, miracles of creation too, beetles, worms, cockroaches, ants, in their various ways.

هناك ما أطلق عليهم الارضيين، أولئك الذىن يقفون وأقدامهم مغروسة فى الأرض التى ولدوا فيها، وهنالك الفراشات، مخلوقات الضوء والهواء، سكان مؤقتون، يحطون هنا وهناك ، تزعم أنك فراشة، تريد ان تكون فراشة، وذات يوم تقع وقعة مفجعة، تُصدم وتسقط على الأرض ، وحين تلتقط أنفاسك تجد انك لم تعد تستطيع الطيران مثل كائن أثيرى ولا تستطيع المشى، لست سوى كتلة من اللحم الجامد، إنه بالتأكيد درس واضح لا يمكن أن تغمض عينيك وتصم أذنيك أمامه .