What Nature Creates Has Eternity In It.

Every Creator Painfully Experiences The Chasm Between His Inner Vision And Its Ultimate Expression.

The Yiddish Mentality Is Not Haughty. It Does Not Take Victory For Granted. It Does Not Demand And Command But It Muddles Through, Sneaks By, Smuggles Itself Amidst The Powers Of Destruction, Knowing Somewhere That God's Plan For Creation Is Still At The Very Beginning.

Each Soul Must Accomplish Its Task, Or It Would Not Have Been Sent Here.

Writing Has Power, But Its Power Has No Vector. Writers Can Stir The Mind, But They Can't Direct It. Time Changes Things, God Changes Things, The Dictators Change Things, But Writers Can't Change Anything.

The Truth Is That What The Great Religions Preached, The Yiddish-speaking People Of The Ghettos Practiced Day In And Day Out. They Were The People Of The Book In The Truest Sense Of The Word. They Knew Of No Greater Joy Than The Study Of Man And Human Relations, Which They Called Torah, Talmud, Mussar, Cabala.