One Does Not Travel By

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.

I Start With A Tingle, A Kind Of Feeling Of The Story I Will Write. Then Come The Characters, And They Take Over, They Make The Story.

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.

Nobody Has Seen The Trekking Birds Take Their Way Towards Such Warmer Spheres As Do Not Exist, Or Rivers Break Their Course Through Rocks And Plains To Run Into An Ocean Which Is Not To Be Found. For God Does Not Create A Longing Or A Hope Without Having A Fulfilling Reality Ready For Them. But Our Longing Is Our Pledge, And Blessed Are The Homesick, For They Shall Come Home.

Here I Am, Where I Am Supposed To Be.