I suppose you will hesitate to consider yourself a mystic or a revolutionary, but when you have eyes to see and ears to hear you will recognize him in your midst. He is sometimes undeniably evident to the point of irritation, sometimes only partially visible. You will find him in the eyes of the guerrilla, the young radical or the boy with the picket sign. You will notice him in the quiet dreamer playing his guitar in the corner of a coffeehouse, in the soft voice of a friendly monk, in the melancholic smile of a student concentrating on his reading. You will see him in the mother who allows
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