It Is Not The Visions

We Must Leave Our Mark On Life While We Have It In Our Power.

Here I Am, Where I Am Supposed To Be.

Here And There, In Some Older Houses, Old Faded Daguerreotypes Still Hang On The Walls... They Seem To Us To Be Very Simple... Compared With The Artistic And Skillful Portraits Made In Later Days... Here Was A Photograph That At One Time Had Been The Last Word, A Very Modern Portrait... Today It Is Just A Part Of Cultural History. The Small Yellowed Surface Has Acquired Depth, An Admonishing Perspective. We Hold In Our Hand A Symbol Of The Structure And Ideology Of An Epoch.

A Visitor Is A Friend, He Brings News, Good Or Bad, Which Is Bread To The Hungry Minds In Lonely Places. A Real Friend Who Comes To The House Is A Heavenly Messenger, Who Brings The Panis Angelorum.

It Is Not The Visions But The Activity Which Makes You Happy, And The Joy And Glory Of The Flier Is The Flight Itself.