Even A Room Which Must Be Dark

How Precious A Book Is In Light Of The Offering, In The Light Of The One Who Has The Privilege Of This Offering. The Library Tells You Of This Offering

All Material In Nature, The Mountains And The Streams And The Air And We, Are Made Of Light Which Has Been Spent, And This Crumpled Mass Called Material Casts A Shadow, And The Shadow Belongs To Light.

You Say To A Brick, 'what Do You Want, Brick?' And Brick Says To You, 'i Like An Arch.' And You Say To Brick, 'look, I Want One, Too, But Arches Are Expensive And I Can Use A Concrete Lintel.' And Then You Say: 'what Do You Think Of That, Brick?' Brick Says: 'i Like An Arch.'

A Work Of Art... Is Not A Living Thing... That Walks Or Runs. But The Making Of A Life. That Which Gives You A Reaction. To Some It Is The Wonder Of Man's Fingers. To Some It Is The Wonder Of The Mind. To Some It Is The Wonder Of Technique. And To Some It Is How Real It Is. To Some, How Transcendent It Is. Like The 5th Symphony, It Presents Itself With A Feeling That You Know It, If You Have Heard It Once.

Architecture Is What Nature Cannot Make. Architecture Is Something Unnatural But Not Something Made Up.