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It Is Easy Today To Deny God's Creativity As A Thing Of The Benighted Past, Overcome By Science, But Man's Creativity, A Thing Much More Improbable And Nothing But An Imitation Of God's, Exercises A Strange Attraction.

The Old View Was That Delicacy Of Language Was Part Of The Nature, The Sacred Nature, Of Eros And That To Speak About It In Any Other Way Would Be To Misunderstand It. What Has Disappeared Is The Risk And The Hope Of Human Connectedness Embedded In Eros. Ours Is A Language That Reduces The Longing For An Other To The Need For Individual, Private Satisfaction And Safety.

The Failure To Read Good Books Both Enfeebles The Vision And Strengthens Our Most Fatal Tendency - The Belief That The Here And Now Is All There Is.

The Sirens Sing Sotto Voce These Days, And The Young Already Have Enough Wax In Their Ears To Pass Them By Without Danger.

The Self Must Be A Tense Bow. It Must Struggle With Opposites Rather Than Harmonize Them, Rather Than Turn The Tension Over To The Great Instruments Of Last Manhood The Skilled Bow Unbenders And Jesuits Of Our Days, The Psychiatrists, Who, In The Same Spirit And As Part Of The Same Conspiracy Of Modernity As The Peace Virtuosos, Reduce Conflict.