When Faith Burns Itself Out, 'tis God

The First Stars Tremble As If Shimmering In Green Water. Hours Must Pass Before Their Glimmer Hardens Into The Frozen Glitter Of Diamonds. I Shall Have A Long Wait Before I Witness The Soundless Frolic Of The Shooting Stars. In The Profound Darkness Of Certain Nights I Have Seen The Sky Streaked With So Many Trailing Sparks That It Seemed To Me A Great Gale Must Be Blowing Through The Outer Heavens.

It Was The Contemplation Of God That Created Men Who Were Equal, For It Was In God That They Were Equal.

So The Crew Fly On With No Thought That They Are In Motion. Like Night Over The Sea, They Are Very Far From The Earth, From Towns, From Trees. The Clock Ticks On. The Dials, The Radio Lamps, The Various Hands And Needles Go Though Their Invisible Alchemy. . . . And When The Hour Is At Hand The Pilot May Glue His Forehead To The Window With Perfect Assurance. Out Of Oblivion The Gold Has Been Smelted: There It Gleams In The Lights Of The Airport.

The Machine Does Not Isolate Man From The Great Problems Of Nature But Plunges Him More Deeply Into Them.

A Chief Is A Man Who Assumes Responsibility. He Says 'i Was Beaten,' He Does Not Say 'my Men Were Beaten.'