Many Of Us Who Walk To And

Tomorrow Lurks In Us, The Latency To Be All That Was Not Achieved Before.

As For Men, Those Myriad Little Detached Ponds With Their Own Swarming Corpuscular Life, What Were They But A Way That Water Has Of Going About Beyond The Reach Of Rivers?

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.

From The Solitude Of The Wood, (man) Has Passed To The More Dreadful Solitude Of The Heart.

It Is Surely One Of The Curious Paradoxes Of History That Science Which Professionally Has Little To Do With Faith, Owes Its Origins To An Act Of Faith That The Universe Can Be Rationally Interpreted, And That Science Today Is Sustained By That Assumption.