The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings,

 but shorter tempers; wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints.
 We spend more, but have less; we buy more, but enjoy it less.
 We have bigger houses and smaller families; more conveniences,
 but less time; we have more degrees, but less sense; more
 knowledge, but less judgment; more experts, yet more problems;
 more medicine, but less wellness.
 We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh
 too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too
tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom.

We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values.
We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often.
We've learned how to make a living, but not a life; we've added years
to life, not life to years. We've been all the way to the moon and back,
but have trouble crossing the street to meet the new neighbor.
We've conquered outer space, but not inner space. We've done
larger things, but not better things. We've cleaned up the air, but
polluted the soul. We've conquered the atom, but not our prejudice.

We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less.
We've learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to
hold more information to produce more copies than ever, but we
communicate less and less. These are the times of fast foods and
slow digestion, big men and small character, steep profits and shallow
relationships. These are the times of world "peace" but constant
conflict, more leisure but less enjoyment, more kinds of food but less
nutrition. These are days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier
houses but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable
diapers, throwaway morality, one-night stands, overweight bodies,
and pills that do everything from cheer to quiet, to kill. It is a time
when there is much in the show window and nothing in the stockroom,
a time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when