Do Unto Those Downstream As You Would

Under The Pavement The Dirt Is Dreaming Of Grass.

The Language That Reveals Also Obscures.

True Solitude Is Found In The Wild Places, Where One Is Without Human Obligation. One's Inner Voices Become Audible... In Consequence, One Responds More Clearly To Other Lives.

Let Me Say And Not Mourn: The World Lives In The Death Of Speech And Sings There.

I Am Speaking Of The Life Of A Man Who Knows That The World Is Not Given By His Fathers, But Borrowed From His Children; Who Has Undertaken To Cherish It And Do It No Damage, Not Because He Is Duty-bound, But Because He Loves The World And Loves His Children...