Centuries I lived in the century that followed quickly on the heels of another.  There wasn’t too much time to figure out why.  One century was known for the sound that its bells made every time you stopped to think about them.  The other wasn’t known for its sense of balance  or the provisions it never considered enlisting in aid of the poor.  But I didn’t live in the century that we pinned to the wall and beat until the dust came out of it.  Other people, of course, did.   And I’m working now to compile a list of their names.  I’ll leave it for you to read, if you want, either in an open compartment or within the siege tower of a well-ventilated field.  All I ask is that you read it with one of my open minds clutching at your guidelines of renewal.  All I ask is that when you stop for me and ask me where this is, sunlight will bounce off the hands of a hundred years of hope. - Lee Stern