Language Is The Source Of

A Sky As Pure As Water Bathed The Stars And Brought Them Out.

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.

Once Men Are Caught Up In An Event, They Cease To Be Afraid. Only The Unknown Frightens Men.

On Ne Sait Jamais! One Never Knows!

The Tree Is More Than First A Seed, Then A Stem, Then A Living Trunk, And Then Dead Timber. The Tree Is A Slow, Enduring Force Straining To Win The Sky.