We must look backwards, too.
DAVID [Hysterically]
To what? To Kishineff?
[As if seeing his vision]
To that butcher's face directing the slaughter? To those——?
MENDEL [Alarmed]
Hush! Calm yourself!
DAVID [Struggling with himself]
Yes, I will calm myself—but how else shall I calm myself save by forgetting all that nightmare of religions and races, save by holding out my hands with prayer and music toward the Republic of Man and the Kingdom of God! The Past I cannot mend—its evil outlines are stamped in immortal rigidity. Take away the hope that I can mend the Future, and you make me mad.
MENDEL