Ye Are Brothers! Ye Are Men! And

The Being Level Speaks The Language Of Art, Music, Color Shape And Pattern Directly -- A Language That Requires No Words -- Is Not Limited By Words -- Nor Does It Have The Specificity Of Words And Thus Cannot Be Broken Onto Parts That Can Be Manipulated Or Analyzed By The Intellect. It Must Be Swallowed, Whole Not Parsed, Sorted And Justified.

O Star-eyed Science, Hast Thou Wander'd There, To Waft Us Home The Message Of Despair?

I'll Meet The Raging Of The Skies, But Not An Angry Father.

On The Green Banks Of Shannon, When Sheelah Was Nigh, No Blithe Irish Lad Was So Happy As I, No Harp Like My Own Could So Cheerily Play, And Wherever I Went Was My Poor Dog Tray.

The Smaller Your Reality, The More Convinced You Are That You Know Everything.