“I know that old man,” Piero di Cosimo had testified. “I painted his likeness once. He is the prisoner who clutched Melema on the steps of the Duomo.”
“He is perhaps the same old man who appeared at supper in my gardens,” said Bernardo Rucellai, one of the Eight. “I had forgotten him. I thought he had died in prison. But there is no knowing the truth now.”
Who shall put his finger on the work of justice, and say, “It is there”?
Justice is like the Kingdom of God—it is not without us as a fact, it is within us as a great yearning.