Whenever I injure life of any sort, I must be quite clear whether it is necessary. Beyond the unavoidable, I must never go, not even with what seems insignificant. The farmer, who has mown down a thousand flowers in his meadow as fodder for his cows, must be careful on his way home not to strike off in wanton pastime the head of a single flower by the roadside, for he thereby commits a wrong against life without being under the pressure of necessity.
I find in these words what I judge myself on now. I find I do alright with the flies that come into the house, I capture them gently in kleenex and release them outside, or the little ants that I see, I leave alone and they always seem to leave this way eventually. It is with the mowing of the grass though that I have diffictulty with. I see insects distrubed when I do, and wonder how many did not get away.