The World Hangs On A Thin Thread,

Continuous Creation Is To Be Thought Of Not Only As A Series Of Successive Acts Of Creation, But Also As The Eternal Presence Of The One Creative Act.

The Creative Mind Plays With The Object It Loves.

Solitude Is For Me A Fount Of Healing Which Makes My Life Worth Living. Talking Is Often A Torment For Me, And I Need Many Days Of Silence To Recover From The Futility Of Words.

Our Intellect Has Created A New World That Dominates Nature, And Has Populated It With Monstrous Machines.

The Pendulum Of The Mind Alternates Between Sense And Nonsense, Not Between Right And Wrong.