Man Is, Above All, He Who Creates.

Here Is My Secret. It Is Very Simple: One Sees Well Only With The Heart. The Essential Is Invisible To The Eyes.

The Tree Is More Than First A Seed, Then A Stem, Then A Living Trunk, And Then Dead Timber. The Tree Is A Slow, Enduring Force Straining To Win The Sky.

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.

Are Wars... Anything But The Means Whereby A Nation's Problems Are Set, Where Creation Is Stimulated - There You Have Adventure. But There Is No Adventure In Heads-or-tails, In Betting That The Toss Will Come Out Of Life Or Death. War Is Not An Adventure. It Is A Disease. It Is Like Typhus.

Each Man Must Look To Himself To Teach Him The Meaning Of Life. It Is Not Something Discovered: It Is Something Molded.