Maybe The Books Can Get Us Half

How Working For The Wrong Motives Poisons Our Creativity And Warps Our Ideas Of Success And Failure.

Joy Is The Grace We Say To God.

When Rivers Flooded, When Fire Fell From The Sky, What A Fine Place The Library Was, The Many Rooms, The Books. With Luck, No One Found You. How Could They!--when You Were Off To Tanganyika In '98, Cairo In 1812, Florence In 1492!?

But Souls Can't Be Sold. They Can Only Be Lost And Never Found Again.

Oh God, The Terrible Tyranny Of The Majority. We All Have Our Harps To Play. And It's Up To You To Know With Which Ear You'll Listen.