The World Is Big And

Quench Love, And What Is Left Of A Man's Life But The Folding Of A Few Jointed Bones And Square Inches Of Flesh? Who Would Call That Life?

Society Speaks And All Men Listen, Mountains Speak And Wise Men Listen

I Used To Envy The Father Of Our Race, Dwelling As He Did In Contact With The New-made Fields And Plants Of Eden; But I Do So No More, Because I Have Discovered That I Also Live In "creation's Dawn." The Morning Stars Still Sing Together, And The World, Not Yet Half Made, Becomes More Beautiful Every Day.

The Power Of Imagination Makes Us Infinite.

Living Artificially In Towns, We Are Sickly, And Never Come To Know Ourselves.