The World Belongs To The Energetic.

The Maker Of A Sentence Launches Out Into The Infinite And Builds A Road Into Chaos And Old Night, And Is Followed By Those Who Hear Him With Something Of Wild, Creative Delight.

For The Existing World Is Not A Dream, And Cannot With Impunity Be Treated As A Dream; Neither Is It A Disease; But It Is The Ground On Which You Stand, It Is The Mother Of Whom You Were Born.

Writing Should Be The Settlement Of Dew On The Leaf.

Five Great Enemies Of Peace Inhabit Us: Avarice, Ambition, Envy, Anger And Pride.

If You Have A Nation Of Men Who Have Risen To That Height Of Moral Cultivation That They Will Not Declare War Or Carry Arms, For They Have Not So Much Madness Left In Their Brains, You Have A Nation Of Lovers, Of Benefactors, Of True, Great, And Able Men.