A Book Is Never A Masterpiece: It

The Fog Comes On Little Cat Feet.

Poetry Is A Puppet-show, Where Riders Of Skyrockets And Divers Of Sea Fathoms Gossip About The Sixth Sense And The Fourth Dimension.

There Is An Eagle In Me That Wants To Soar, And There Is A Hippopotamus In Me That Wants To Wallow In The Mud.

What Of The Wright Boys In Dayton? Just Around The Corner They Had A Shop And Did A Bicycle Business-and They Wanted To Fly For The Sake Of Flying. They Were Man The Seeker, Man On A Quest. Money Was Their Last Thought, Their Final Absent-minded Idea. They Threw Out A Lot Of Old Mistaken Measurements And Figured New Ones That Stood Up When They Took Off And Held The Air And Steered A Course. They Proved That "the Faster You Go The Less Power You Need."

It Is Necessary ... For A Man To Go Away By Himself ... To Sit On A Rock ... And Ask, 'who Am I, Where Have I Been, And Where Am I Going?