One Does Not Travel By Plane. One

I Had Seen A Herd Of Elephant Travelling Through Dense Native Forest ... Pacing Along As If They Had An Appointment At The End Of The World.

Truth, Like Time, Is An Idea Arising From, And Dependent Upon, Human Intercourse.

As We Grow Old We Slowly Come To Believe That Everything Will Turn Out Badly For Us, And That Failure Is In The Nature Of Things; But Then We Do Not Much Mind What Happens To Us One Way Or The Other.

It Is Not The Visions But The Activity Which Makes You Happy, And The Joy And Glory Of The Flier Is The Flight Itself. . . Every Time I Have Gone Up In An Aeroplane And Looked Down Have Realized I Was Free Of The Ground, I Have Had The Consciousness Of A New Discovery. "i See:" I Have Thought, "this Was The Idea. And Now I Understand Everything."

Who Tells A Finer Tale Than Any Of Us. Silence Does.