In A Mood Of Faith And Hope

It Is Good To Know Our Universe. What Is New Is Only New To Us.

I Am Not Given To Superstition, Yet There Are Certain Places In Old Asian Countries Where Human Beings Have Been Born And Have Lived And Died For So Many Generations That The Very Earth Is Saturated With Their Flesh And The Air Seems Crowded With Their Continuing Presence.

In A Mood Of Faith And Hope My Work Goes On. A Ream Of Fresh Paper Lies On My Desk Waiting For The Next Book. I Am A Writer And I Take Up My Pen To Write.

Some Are Kissing Mothers And Some Are Scolding Mothers, But It Is Love Just The Same, And Most Mothers Kiss And Scold Together.

Add To This Cruelly Delicate Organism The Overpowering Necessity To Create, Create, Create - So That Without The Creating Of Music Or Poetry Or Books Or Buildings Or Something Of Meaning, His Very Breath Is Cut Off From Him. He Must Create, Must Pour Out Creation. By Some Strange, Unknown, Inward Urgency He Is Not Really Alive Unless He Is Creating.