No Wide Road Leads To God.

I Heard The Bells From The Future Churches, The Children Playing And Laughing In The Schoolyards [...] And Here Was An Almond Tree In Bloom Before Me: I Must Reach Out And Cut A Flowering Branch. For, By Believing Passionately In Something Which Still Does Not Exist, We Create It. The Nonexistent Is Whatever We Have Not Sufficiently Desired, Whatever We Have Not Irrigated With Our Blood To Such A Degree That It Becomes Strong Enough To Stride Across The Somber Threshold Of Nonexistence.

What, Then Is Our Duty? It Is To Carefully Distinguish The Historic Moment In Which We Live And To Consciously Assign Our Small Energies To A Specific Battlefield. The More We Are In Phase With The Current Which Leads The Way, The More We Aid Man In His Difficult, Uncertain, Danger-fraught Ascent Toward Salvation.

As You Walk, You Cut Open And Create That River Bed Into Which The Stream Of Your Descendants Shall Enter And Flow.

What Is Truth? What Is Falsehood? Whatever Gives Wings To Men, Whatever Produces Great Works And Great Souls And Lifts Up A Man's Height Above The Earth - That's True. Whatever Clips Off Man's Wings - That's False.

I Should Learn To Run, To Wrestle, To Swim, To Ride Horses, To Row, To Drive A Car, To Fire A Rifle. I Should Fill My Soul With Flesh. I Should Fill My Flesh With Soul. In Fact, I Should Reconcile At Last Within Me The Two Internal Antagonists.