I No Longer Cared About Survival...i Merely

It Is A Funny Thing What The Brain Will Do With Memories And How It Will Treasure Them And Finally Bring Them Into Odd Juxtapositions With Other Things, As Though It Wanted To Make A Design, Or Get Some Meaning Out Of Them, Whether You Want It Or Not, Or Even See It.

Out Of The Choked Devonian Waters Emerged Sight And Sound And The Music That Rolls Invisible Through The Composer's Brain. They Are There Still In The Ooze Along The Tideline, Though No One Notices. The World Is Fixed, We Say: Fish In The Sea, Birds In The Air. But In The Mangrove Swamps By The Niger, Fish Climb Trees And Ogle Uneasy Naturalists Who Try Unsuccessfully To Chase Them Back To The Water. There Are Things Still Coming Ashore.

Great Minds Have Always Seen It. That Is Why Man Has Survived His Journey This Long. When We Fail To Wish Any Longer To Be Otherwise Than What We Are, We Will Have Ceased To Evolve. Evolution Has To Be Lived Forward. I Say This As One Who Has Stood Above The Bones Of Much That Has Vanished, And At Midnight Has Examined His Own Face.

Fire, As We Have Learned To Our Cost, Has An Insatiable Hunger To Be Fed. It Is A Nonliving Force That Can Even Locomote Itself.

It Has Been Said Repeatedly That One Can Never, Try As He Will, Get Around To The Front Of The Universe. Man Is Destined To See Only Its Far Side, To Realize Nature Only In Retreat.