I practise love. I sit down day after day and think about love. I practise, be kind, be gentle, forcing myself to pay attention to others. But that’s not love, is it? I think that unity of mankind is essential, and love is the only way, and to have that love I think I must practise. Like a machine, I must practise, and to practise I must think about it every day. But thought, being old, can never produce something new, and love is always new. That is the beauty of it.