Each Man Must Have His Own Special

I Hope For Nothing. I Fear Nothing. I Am Free. Inscription On Kazantakis's Tomb In Heraklion, Greece

Everything In This World Has A Hidden Meaning, I Thought. Men, Animals, Trees, Stars, They Are All Hieroglyphics; Woe To Anyone Who Begins To Decipher Them And Guess What They Mean.... When You See Them, You Do Not Understand Them. You Think They Are Really Men, Animals, Trees, Stars. It Is Only Years Later, Too Late, That You Understand.

What Is Truth? What Is Falsehood? Whatever Gives Wings To Men, Whatever Produces Great Works And Great Souls And Lifts Up A Man's Height Above The Earth - That's True. Whatever Clips Off Man's Wings - That's False.

The Masses Do Not See The Sirens. They Do Not Hear Songs In The Air. Blind, Deaf, Stooping, They Pull At Their Oars In The Hold Of The Earth. But The More Select, The Captains, Harken To A Siren Within Them...and Royally Squander Their Lives With Her.

If Only We Know, Boss, What The Stones And Rain And Flowers Say. Maybe They Call-call Us-and We Don't Hear Them. When Will People's Ears Open, Boss? When Shall We Have Our Eyes Open To See? When Shall We Open Our Arms To Embrace Everything-stones, Rain, Flowers, And People? What Do You Think About That, Boss? And What Do Your Books Have To Say About That?