If You Cannot Bear The Silence And

Perhaps A Creature Of So Much Ingenuity And Deep Memory Is Almost Bound To Grow Alienated From His World, His Fellows, And The Objects Around Him. He Suffers From A Nostalgia For Which There Is No Remedy Upon Earth Except As It Is To Be Found In The Enlightenment Of The Spirit--some Ability To Have A Perceptive Rather Than An Exploitive Relationship With His Fellow Creatures.

In The End, Science As We Know It Has Two Basic Types Of Practitioners. One Is The Educated Man Who Still Has A Controlled Sense Of Wonder Before The Universal Mystery, Whether It Hides In A Snail's Eye Or Within The Light That Impinges On That Delicate Organ. The Second Kind Of Observer Is The Extreme Reductionist Who Is So Busy Stripping Things Apart That The Tremendous Mystery Has Been Reduced To A Trifle, To Intangibles Not Worth Troubling One's Head About.

Though Men In The Mass Forget The Origins Of Their Need, They Still Bring Wolfhounds Into City Apartments, Where Dog And Man Both Sit Brooding In Wistful Discomfort. The Magic That Gleams An Instant Between Argos And Odysseus Is Both The Recognition Of Diversity And The Need For Affection Across The Illusions Of Form. It Is Nature's Cry To Homeless, Far-wandering, Insatiable Man: "do Not Forget Your Brethren, Nor The Green Wood From Which You Sprang. To Do So Is To Invite Disaster.

The Freedom To Create Is Somehow Linked With Facility Of Access To Those Obscure Regions Below The Conscious Mind.

It Is A Funny Thing What The Brain Will Do With Memories And How It Will Treasure Them And Finally Bring Them Into Odd Juxtapositions With Other Things, As Though It Wanted To Make A Design, Or Get Some Meaning Out Of Them, Whether You Want It Or Not, Or Even See It.