To Set Sail Somewhere Is More Important

Through All The World There Goes One Long Cry From The Heart Of The Artist: Give Me A Chance To Do My Best.

If I Know A Song Of Africa, Of The Giraffe And The African New Moon Lying On Her Back, Of The Plows In The Fields And The Sweaty Faces Of The Coffee Pickers, Does Africa Know A Song Of Me? Will The Air Over The Plain Quiver With A Color That I Have Had On, Or The Children Invent A Game In Which My Name Is, Or The Full Moon Throw A Shadow Over The Gravel Of The Drive That Was Like Me, Or Will The Eagles Of The Ngong Hills Look Out For Me?

And I Had By Now Become Used To The Idea Of Witchcraft, It Seemed A Reasonable Thing, So Many Things Are About, At Night, In Africa.

The Pleasure Of The True Dreamer Does Not Lie In The Substance Of The Dream, But In This: That There Things Happen Without Any Interference From His Side, And Altogether Outside His Control.

Human Talk Is A Centrifugal Function, Ever In Flight Outwards From What Is On The Talker's Mind.