To Be A Man Is To Feel

He Had Taken Seriously Words Which Were Without Importance, And It Made Him Very Unhappy.

Using An Artful Tool Does Not Make One A Dry Technician. It Seems To Me That People That Are Anxious About Our Technical Advancement, Confuse Means And Ends. Naturally A Person That Only Works For Material Gain Will Not Harvest Something That Is Worth Living For. But The Machine Is Not An End In Itself. The Airplane Is Not An End. It Is A Tool. Just Like The Plough.

The Beauty Of The Mountain Is Hidden For All Those Who Try To Discover It From The Top, Supposing That, One Way Or An Other, One Can Reach This Place Directly. The Beauty Of The Mountain Reveals Only To Those Who Climbed It.

Living Is Being Born Slowly. It Would Be A Little Too Easy If We Could Borrow Ready-made Souls.

Night, The Beloved. Night, When Words Fade And Things Come Alive. When The Destructive Analysis Of Day Is Done, And All That Is Truly Important Becomes Whole And Sound Again. When Man Reassembles His Fragmentary Self And Grows With The Calm Of A Tree.