To Him Who Knows How To Read

When A Man Grows Aware Of A New Way In Which To Serve God, He Should Carry It Around With Him Secretly, And Without Uttering It, For Nine Months, As Though He Were Pregnant With It, And Let Others Know Of It Only At The End Of That Time, As Though It Were A Birth.

This Is The Eternal Origin Of Art That A Human Being Confronts A Form That Wants To Become A Work Through Him. Not A Figment Of His Soul But Something That Appears To The Soul And Demands The Soul's Creative Power. What Is Required Is A Deed That A Man Does With His Whole Being.

When I Confront A Human Being As My Thou And Speak The Basic Word I-thou To Him, Then He Is No Thing Among Things Nor Does He Consist Of Things. He Is No Longer He Or She, A Dot In The World Grid Of Space And Time, Nor A Condition To Be Experienced And Described, A Loose Bundle Of Named Qualities. Neighborless And Seamless, He Is Thou And Fills The Firmament. Not As If There Were Nothing But He; But Everything Else Lives In His Light.

Love Is Responsibility Of An I For A You: In This Consists What Cannot Consist In Any Feeling - The Equality Of All Lovers.

The Future Stands In Need Of You In Order To Be Born.