Writers . . . Write To Give

. . . What Humanity Most Desperately Needs Is Not The Creation Of New Worlds But The Recreation In Terms Of Human Comprehension Of The World We Have -- And It Is For This Reason That Arts Go On For Generation To Generation In Spite Of The Fact That Phidias Has Already Carved And Homer Has Already Sung. The Creation, We Are Informed, Was Accomplished In Seven Days With Sunday Off, But The Recreation Will Never Be Accomplished Because It Is Always Accomplished Anew For Each Generation Of Living Men.

There Is No Dusk To Be, There Is No Dawn That Was, Only There's Now, And Now, And The Wind In The Grass.

Spring Has Many American Faces. There Are Cities Where It Will Come And Go In A Day And Counties Where It Hangs Around And Never Quite Gets There. Summer Is Drawn Blinds In Louisiana, Long Winds In Wyoming, Shade Of Elms And Maples In New England.

Races Didn't Bother The Americans. They Were Something A Lot Better Than Any Race. They Were A People. They Were The First Self-constituted, Self-declared, Self-created People In The History Of The World.

How Shall Freedom Be Defended? By Arms When It Is Attacked By Arms, By Truth When It Is Attacked By Lies, By Faith When It Is Attacked By Authoritarian Dogma. Always, In The Final Act, By Determination And Faith.