We do not campaign stressing what our country is going to do for us as a people. We stress what we can do for the country.

We stand today on the edge of a new frontier—the frontier of the Nineteen Sixties—the frontier of unknown opportunities and perils—the frontier of unfulfilled hopes and unfilled threats. . . . The New Frontier of which I speak is not a set of promises—it is a set of challenges. It sums up not what I intend to offer to the American people, but what I intend to ask of them.

This is not a time to keep the facts from the people—to keep them complacent. To sound the alarm is not to panic but to seek action from an aroused public. For, as the poet Dante once said: “The hottest places in hell are reserved for those who, in a time of great moral crisis, maintain their neutrality.”

Wealth is the means, and people are the ends. All our material riches will avail us little if we do not use them to expand the opportunities of our people.

We have allowed a soft sentimentalism to form the atmosphere we breathe. And in that kind of atmosphere, a diffuse desire to do good has become a substitute for tough-minded plans and operations—a substitute for strategy.

No man who witnessed the tragedies of the last war, no man who can imagine the'unimaginable possibilities of the next war can advocate war out of irritability or frustration or impatience.

Our instrument and our hope is the United Nations, and I see little merit in the impatience of those who would abandon this imperfect world instrument because they dislike our imperfect world.

Peace does not rest in charters and covenants alone. It lies in the hearts and minds of the people.

No sane society chooses to commit national suicide.

The state is the servant of the citizen, and not his master.