What Is True, Is True Only For

The End Of All Our Exploring Will Be To Arrive Where We Started.

The Wounded Surgeon Plies The Steel That Questions The Distempered Part; Beneath The Bleeding Hands We Feel The Sharp Compassion Of The Healer's Art Resolving The Enigma Of The Fever Chart.

And Indeed There Will Be Time To Wonder, 'do I Dare?', And 'do I Dare?

Justice Itself Tends To Be Corrupted By Political Passion.

The River Itself Has No Beginning Or End. In Its Beginning, It Is Not Yet The River; In The End It Is No Longer The River. What We Call The Headwaters Is Only A Selection From Among The Innumerable Sources Which Flow Together To Compose It. At What Point In Its Course Does The Mississippi Become What The Mississippi Means?