It is just singing. And in the beginning was not a Word, but a chirrup. This is the very worst wickedness, that we refuse to acknowledge the passionate evil that is in us. This makes us secret and rotten. The only justice is to follow the sincere intuition of the soul, angry or gentle.
Anger is just, and pity is just, but judgement is never just.
One could laugh at the world better if it didn't mix tender kindliness with its brutality. And the strong driving force usually finds his weak spot, and he goes cranked, or goes under. It is so much more difficult to live with one's body than with one's soul. The human being is a most curious creature. He thinks he has got one soul, and he has got dozens.