He was a man who was born of Jewish parents, the child of a peasant woman.
He never wrote a book. He never held an office.
He never did one of the great things that usually accompany greatness.
He had no credentials but himself.
While still a young man, the tide of popular opinion turned against him.
He was nailed to a cross between two thieves.
When he was dead, he was taken down and laid in a borrowed grave through the pity of a friend.
Many centuries have come and gone and he is the centerpiece of the human race.
I am far within the mark when I say that no armies or navies have affected mankind
as powerfully as that One Solitary Life