What Makes The Desert Beautiful Is That

He Sat Down. I Sat Down Next To Him. And After A Silence, He Spoke Again. 'the Stars Are Beautiful Because Of A Flower You Don't See...' I Answered, 'yes, Of Course.

The Theoretician Believes In Logic And Believes That He Despises Dreams, Intuition, And Poetry. He Does Not Recognize That These Three Fairies Have Only Disguised Themselves In Order To Dazzle Him.... He Does Not Know That He Owes His Greatest Discoveries To Them.

Only The Children Know What They Are Looking For. They Waste Their Time Over A Rag Doll And It Becomes Very Important To Them; And If Anybody Takes It Away From Them, They Cry.

Sitting In The Flickering Light Of The Candles On This Kerchief Of Sand, On This Village Square, We Waited In The Night. We Were Waiting For The Rescuing Dawn - Or For The Moors. Something, I Know Not What, Lent This Night A Savor Of Christmas. We Told Stories, We Joked, We Sang Songs. In The Air There Was That Slight Fever That Reigns Over A Gaily Prepared Feast. And Yet We Were Infinitely Poor. Wind, Sand, And Stars. The Austerity Of Trappists. But On This Badly Lighted Cloth, A Handful Of Men Who Possessed Nothing In The World But Their Memories Were Sharing Invisible Riches.

The Magic Of The Craft Has Opened For Me A World In Which I Shall Confront, Within Two Hours, The Black Dragons And The Crowned Crests Of A Coma Of Blue Lightnings, And When Night Has Fallen I, Delivered, Shall Read My Course In The Starts.