When Vitality Runs High, Death Takes Men

I Would Die Happy If I Knew That On My Tombstone Could Be Written These Words, "this Man Was An Absolute Fool. None Of The Disastrous Things That He Reluctantly Predicted Ever Came To Pass!"

Before Modern Man Can Gain Control Over The Forces That Now Threaten His Very Existence, He Must Resume Possession Of Himself. This Sets The Chief Mission For The City Of The Future: That Of Creating A Visible Regional And Civic Structure, Designed To Make Man At Home With His Deeper Self And His Larger World, Attached To Images Of Human Nature And Love.

This Metropolitan World, Then, Is A World Where Flesh And Blood Is Less Real Than Paper And Ink And Celluloid.

Today, The Notion Of Progress In A Single Line Without Goal Or Limit Seems Perhaps The Most Parochial Notion Of A Very Parochial Century.

Happiness, I Think, Lies On The Surface... When One Plunges Under The Surface All The Buoyant Things Disappear, And The Farther Down One Gets The More Cold And Dark It Seems: And The More Oppressive Space Feels.