I Believe That For His Escape He

To Be A Man Is To Feel That One's Own Stone Contributes To Building The Edifice Of The World.

He Who Has Gone, So We But Cherish His Memory, Abides With Us, More Potent, Nay, More Present Than The Living Man.

He Sat Down. I Sat Down Next To Him. And After A Silence, He Spoke Again. 'the Stars Are Beautiful Because Of A Flower You Don't See...' I Answered, 'yes, Of Course.

One Cannot Build Life From Refrigerators, Politics, Credit Statements And Crossword Puzzles. That Is Impossible. Nor Can One Exist For Any Length Of Time Without Poetry, Without Color, Without Love.

You Will Have Five Hundred Million Little Bells, And I Shall Have Five Hundred Million Springs Of Fresh Water.