The Great Artist, Whether He Be Musician,

[on Common Water.] Its Substance Reaches Everywhere; It Touches The Past And Prepares The Future; It Moves Under The Poles And Wanders Thinly In The Heights Of Air. It Can Assume Forms Of Exquisite Perfection In A Snowflake, Or Strip The Living To A Single Shining Bone Cast Up By The Sea.

Each Man Deciphers From The Ancient Alphabets Of Nature Only Those Secrets That His Own Deeps Possess The Power To Endow With Meaning.

Some Degree Of Withdrawal Serves To Nurture Man's Creative Powers. The Artist And The Scientist Bring Out Of The Dark Void, Like The Mysterious Universe Itself, The Unique, The Strange, The Unexpected. Numerous Observers Have Testified Upon The Loneliness Of The Process.

Like The Herd Animals We Are, We Sniff Warily At The Strange One Among Us.

There Is Nothing Very 'normal' About Nature.