His light brown hair fell, in thin, uncrisp locks, about his white, prominent temples,

Plain old uncle as he [Socrates] was, with his great ears, — an immense talker.

It would focus rather on those who in the terrible spotlight of hindsight could be misblamed for the tragedies in the first place. Americans in Vietnam, unilateralists in Rhodesia, those who maintain the modern partitions of an ancient Holy Land.

But age is heart-wearied and tempest-torn: it is the crumbling cenotaph of fear and hope!