We Invent The Past And Remember The

People Who Dream When They Sleep At Night Know Of A Special Kind Of Happiness Which The World Of The Day Holds Not, A Placid Ecstasy, And Ease Of Heart, That Are Like Honey On The Tongue. They Also Know That The Real Glory Of Dreams Lies In Their Atmosphere Of Unlimited Freedom. It Is Not The Freedom Of The Dictator, Who Enforces His Own Will On The World, But The Freedom Of The Artist, Who Has No Will, Who Is Free Of Will.

Man Reaches The Highest Point Of Lovableness At 12 To 17 - To Get It Back, In A Second Flowering, At The Age Of 70 To 90

In The Ngong Forest I Have Also Seen, On A Narrow Path Through Thick Growth, In The Middle Of A Very Hot Day, The Giant Forest Hog, A Rare Person To Meet.

It Is When One Begins To Lose The Consciousness Of Freedom, And When The Idea Of Necessity Enters The World At All, When There Is Any Hurry Or Strain Anywhere, A Letter To Be Written Or A Train To Catch, When You Have Got To Work, To Make The Horses Of The Dream Gallop, Or To Make The Rifles Go Off, That The Dream Is Declining, And Turning Into The Nightmare, Which Belongs To The Poorest And Most Vulgar Class Of Dreams.

Our Longing Is Our Pledge, And Blessed Are The Homesick, For They Shall Come Home.