Qui ne craint point la mort ne craint point les menaces.
I lived, particularly in childhood but with lessening intensity right on to middle age, in a world that was peculiarly and intimately my own, scarcely to be shared with others or even made plausible to them. I habitually read special meanings into things, scenes and places qualities of wonder, beauty, promise, or horror for which there was no external evidence visible or plausible to others. My world was peopled with mysteries, seductive hints, vague menaces, "intimations of immortality."george f. kennan
Reverend Moon and his church are a long, low cry from the past: a demand for a return to a simplified, unified world over and against what must appear to many to be a complicated and fragmented present-day world, growing more so daily. It is also a cry of the heart for a Western civilization that has no menaces and no communists: the last crusade, the final roundup, the assertion of antihistory, a demand that compromises yield to principle and that religion replace realpolitik.