Flying Is A Man's Job And Its

In Giving You Are Throwing A Bridge Across The Chasm Of Your Solitude.

When The Body Sinks Into Death, The Essence Of Man Is Revealed. Man Is A Knot, A Web, A Mesh Into Which Relationships Are Tied. Only Those Relationships Matter. The Body Is An Old Crock That Nobody Will Miss. I Have Never Known A Man To Think Of Himself When Dying. Never.

Surely A Man Needs A Closed Place Wherein He May Strike Root And, Like The Seed, Become. But Also He Needs The Great Milky Way Above Him And The Vast Sea Spaces, Though Neither Stars Nor Ocean Serve His Daily Needs.

You Become Responsible For A Long Time For What You've Tamed.

Nothing Comes Of Severity If There Be No Leanings Towards A Change Of Heart. And If There Be Natural Leanings Towards A Change Of Heart, What Need For Severity?