And I Had By Now Become Used

It Is Not The Visions But The Activity Which Makes You Happy, And The Joy And Glory Of The Flier Is The Flight Itself.

I Had Seen A Herd Of Buffalo, One Hundred And Twenty-nine Of Them, Come Out Of The Morning Mist Under A Copper Sky, One By One, As If The Dark And Massive, Iron-like Animals With The Mighty Horizontally Swung Horns Were Not Approaching, But Were Being Created Before My Eyes And Sent Out As They Were Finished.

Humanity Has Made A Great Error In Seizing On A Certain Moment, No More Intrinsically Notable Than Any Other Moment And Has Called It Birth. The Habit Of Honoring One Single Instant Of The Universal Process To The Disadvantage Of Other Instants Has Done More, Perhaps, Than Anything To Obfuscate The Crystal Clearness Of The Fundamental Flux.

There Is Something About Safari Life That Makes You Forget All Your Sorrows And Feel As If You Had Drunk Half A Bottle Of Champagne — Bubbling Over With Heartfelt Gratitude For Being Alive.

Some Travelers Are Drawn Forward By A Goal Lying Before Them In The Way Iron Is Drawn To The Magnet. Others Are Driven On By A Force Lying Behind Them. In Such A Way The Bowstring Makes The Arrow Fly.