A Certain Amount Of Danger Is Essential

In Wilderness I Sense The Miracle Of Life, And Behind It Our Scientific Accomplishments Fade To Trivia.

While My Hand Is On The Stick, My Feet On The Rudder, And My Eyes On The Compass, This Consciousness, Like A Winged Messenger, Goes Out To Visit The Waves Below, Testing The Warmth Of Water, The Speed Of Wind, The Thickness Of Intervening Clouds. It Goes North To The Glacial Coasts Of Greenland, Over The Horizon To The Edge Of Dawn, Ahead To Ireland, England, And The Continent Of Europe, Away Through Space To The Moon And Stars, Always Returning, Unwillingly, To The Mortal Duty Of Seeing That The Limbs And Muscles Have Attended Their Routine While It Was Gone.

Time Is An Abstraction Which, On Earth, Exists Only For The Human Brain It Has Evolved.

Ideas Are Like Seeds, Apparently Insignificant When First Held In The Hand. Once Firmly Planted, They Can Grow And Flower Into Almost Anything At All, A Cornstalk, Or A Giant Redwood, Or A Flight Across The Ocean. Whatever A Man Imagines, He Can Achieve.

I Grow Aware Of Various Forms Of Man And Of Myself. I Am Form And I Am Formless, I Am Life And I Am Matter, Mortal And Immortal. I Am One And Many -- Myself And Humanity In Flux.