The Promised Land Always Lies On The

All Civilization Has From Time To Time Become A Thin Crust Over A Volcano Of Revolution.

Every Man Of Genius Sees The World At A Different Angle From His Fellows, And There Is His Tragedy.

The Conflict Of Forces And The Struggle Of Opposing Wills Are Of The Essence Of Our Universe And Alone Hold It Together.

The Great Writer Finds Style As The Mystic Finds God, In His Own Soul.

Dancing As An Art, We May Be Sure, Cannot Die Out, But Will Always Be Undergoing A Rebirth. Not Merely As An Art, But Also As A Social Custom, It Perpetually Emerges Afresh From The Soul Of The People.