There is one, and only one, thing in modern society more hideous than crime namely, repressive justice.
Justice consists in seeing that no harm is done to men. Whenever a man cries inwardly: 'Why am I being hurt?' harm is being done to him. He is often mistaken when he tries to define the harm, and why and by whom it is being inflicted on him. But the cry itself is infallible.
Justice. To be ever ready to admit that another person is something quite different from what we read when he is there (or when we think about him). Or rather, to read in him that he is certainly something different, perhaps something completely different from what we read in him. Every being cries out silently to be read differently.
He who does not realize to what extent shifting fortune and necessity hold in subjection every human spirit, cannot regard as fellow-creatures nor love as he loves himself those whom chance separated from him by an abyss. The variety of constraints pressing upon man give rise to the illusion of several distinct species that cannot communicate. Only he who has measured the dominion of force, and knows how not to respect it, is capable of love and justice.
The supernatural virtue of justice consists of behaving exactly as though there were equality when one is the stronger in an unequal relationship.
One must always be ready to change sides with justice, that fugitive from the winning camp.
Justice, truth, and beauty are sisters and comrades. With three such beautiful words we have no need to look for any others.
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