Only The Children Know What They Are

There Is No Hope Of Joy Except In Human Relations.

We Are All Youthful Barbarians, And Only Our New Toys Bring Us Excitement. That Has Been The Sole Purpose Of Our Flights. This One Flies Higher, That One Faster. But Now We Will Make Ourselves At Home. We Will Forget The Machine, The Tool. It Is No Longer Complex; It Does What It Is Supposed To Do, Unnoticed. And Through This Tool We Will Find Again The Old Nature, The Nature Of The Gardener, The Navigator, The Poet.

If You Tame Me, Then We Shall Need Each Other. To Me, You Will Be Unique In All The World. To You, I Shall Be Unique In All The World…if You Tame Me, It Will Be As If The Sun Came To Shine On My Life. I Shall Know The Sound Of A Step That Will Be Different From All The Others. Other Steps Send Me Hurrying Back Underneath The Ground. Yours Will Call Me, Like Music, Out Of My Burrow

I Don't Understand These People Anymore, That Travel The Commuter-trains To Their Dormitory Towns. These People That Call Themselves Human, But, By A Pressure They Do Not Feel, Are Forced To Do Their Work Like Ants. With What Do They Fill Their Time When They Are Free Of Work On Their Silly Little Sundays? I Am Very Fortunate In My Profession. I Feel Like A Farmer, With The Airstrips As My Fields. Those That Have Once Tasted This Kind Of Fare Will Not Forget It Ever. Not So, My Friends?

I Showed The Grown Ups My Maasterpiece, Andi Asked Them If My Drawing Scared Them. They Answered Why Be Scared Of A Hat? My Drawing Was Not A Picture Of A Hat. It Was A Picture Of A Boa Constrictor Digesting An Elephant.