At The Heart Of The

Earth Is Enough. We Men Of Earth Have Here The Stuff Of Paradise - We Have Enough! We Need No Other Stones To Build The Temple Of The Unfulfilled - No Other Ivory For The Doors - No Other Marble For The Floors - No Other Cedar For The Beam And Dome Of Man's Immortal Dream. Here On The Paths Of Every-day - Here On The Common Human Way Is All The Stuff The Gods Would Take To Build A Heaven, To Mold And Make New Edens. Ours Is The Stuff Sublime To Build Eternity In Time!

We Are All Blind Until We See That In The Human Plan Nothing Is Worth The Making If It Does Not Make The Man. Why Build These Cities Glorious If Man Unbuilded Goes? We Build The World In Vain Unless The Builders Also Grow.

It Is Better To Rust Out Than Wear Out.

The Sequoias Belong To The Silences Of The Milleniums. Many Of Them Have Seen A Hundred Human Generations Rise, Give Off Their Little Clamors And Perish. They Seem Indeed To Be Forms Of Immortality Standing Here Amoing The Transitory Shapes Of Time.

Choices Are The Hinges Of Destiny.