We, this people, on this small and drifting planet. Whose hands can strike with such abandon. That in a twinkling, life is sapped from the living. Yet those same hands can touch with such healing, irresistible tenderness. That the haughty neck is happy to bow. And the proud back is glad to bend. Out of such chaos, of such contradiction. We learn that we are neither devils nor divines.
Content Catnip 