Sand. Everywhere. In The Bed,

Where Is The Knowledge We Have Lost In Information?

Most Contemporary Novels Are Not Really "written." They Obtain What Reality They Have Largely From An Accurate Rendering Of The Noises That Human Beings Currently Make In Their Daily Simple Needs Of Communication; And What Part Of A Novel Is Not Composed Of These Noises Consists Of A Prose Which Is No More Alive Than That Of A Competent Newspaper Writer Or Government Official. A Prose That Is Altogether Alive Demands Something Of The Reader That The Ordinary Novel-reader Is Not Prepared To Give.

If Time And Space, As Sages Say, Are Things Which Cannot Be, The Sun Which Does Not Feel Decay No Greater Is Than We. So Why, Love, Should We Ever Pray To Live A Century? The Butterfly That Lives A Day Has Lived Eternity.

Religion, As Distinguished From Modern Paganism, Implies A Life In Conformity With Nature. It May Be Observed That The Natural Life And The Supernatural Life Have A Conformity To Each Other Which Neither Has With The Mechanistic Life...a Wrong Attitude Towards Nature Implies, Somewhere, A Wrong Attitude Towards God...[we Should] Struggle To Recover The Sense Of Relation To Nature And To God.

We Shall Not Cease From Exploration