There Is Nothing For Which Men Ask

With The Strength Of His Spiritual Sight And Insight The Distance, And As It Were The Space, Around Man Continually Expands: His World Grows Deeper, Ever New Stars, Ever New Images And Enigmas Come Into View.

The Irrationality Of A Thing Is No Argument Against Its Existence, Rather A Condition Of It.

In Laughter All That Is Evil Comes Together, But Is Pronounced Holy And Absolved By Its Own Bliss.

There Is Something Laughable About The Sight Of Authors Who Enjoy The Rustling Folds Of Long And Involved Sentences: They Are Trying To Cover Up Their Feet.

In Russia There Is An Emigration Of Intelligence: émigrés Cross The Frontier In Order To Read And To Write Good Books. But In Doing So They Contribute To Making Their Fatherland, Abandoned By Spirit, Into The Gaping Jaws Of Asia That Would Like To Swallow Our Little Europe.