Each And All, We Are Riding Into

For The First Time In Four Billion Years A Living Creature Had Contemplated Himself And Heard With A Sudden, Unaccountable Loneliness, The Whisper Of The Wind In The Night Reeds.

It Has Been Said That Great Art Is The Night Thought Of Man. It May Emerge Without Warning From The Soundless Depths Of The Unconscious, Just As Supernovas May Blaze Up Suddenly In The Farther Reaches Of Void Space.

We Cannot Pluck A Flower Witout Disturbing A Star.

Some Degree Of Withdrawal Serves To Nurture Man's Creative Powers. The Artist And The Scientist Bring Out Of The Dark Void, Like The Mysterious Universe Itself, The Unique, The Strange, The Unexpected. Numerous Observers Have Testified Upon The Loneliness Of The Process.

The Creature Called Man Has A Strange History. He Is Not Of One Piece, Nor Was He Born Of A Single Moment In Time. His Elementary Substance Is Stardust Almost As Old As The Universe.