We Do Not Pray For Immortality, But

I'll Look As If I'm Dead, And That Won't Be True.' I Said Nothing. 'you Understand. It's Too Far. I Can't Take This Body With Me. It's Too Heavy.' I Said Nothing. 'but It'll Be Like An Old Abandoned Shell. There's Nothing Sad About An Old Shell...' I Said Nothing. 'it'll Be Nice, You Know. I'll Be Looking At The Stars, Too. All The Stars Will Be Wells With A Rusty Pulley. All The Stars Will Pour Out Water For Me To Drink...' I Said Nothing. 'and It'll Be Fun! You'll Have Five-hundred Million Little Bells; I'll Have Five-hundred Million Springs Of Fresh Water...' And He, Too, Said Nothing More.

No Individual Is Isolated. He Who Is Sad, Saddens Others.

Perhaps Creativity Is Fumbling That Dance Step, Or Driving The Chisel The Wrong Way Into The Stone.

How Could There Be Any Question Of Acquiring Or Possessing, When The One Thing Needful For A Man Is To Become - To Be At Last, And To Die In The Fullness Of His Being.

Vain Is The Hope Of Finding Pleasure In That Which One Has Hitherto Disdained; As When The Warrior Hopes To Find Pleasure In The Joys Of The Sedentaries.