What The Common Man Cannot

Endurance Of Inescapable Sorrow Is Something Which Has To Be Learned Alone. And Only To Endure Is Not Enough. Endurance Can Be A Harsh And Bitter Root In One's Life, Bearing Poisonous And Gloomy Fruit, Destroying Other Lives. Endurance Is Only The Beginning. There Must Be Acceptance And The Knowledge That Sorrow Fully Accepted Brings Its Own Gifts. For There Is An Alchemy In Sorrow. It Can Be Transmuted Into Wisdom, Which, If It Does Not Bring Joy, Can Yet Bring Happiness.

No One Really Understood Music Unless He Was A Scientist, Her Father Had Declared, And Not Just A Scientist, Either, Oh, No, Only The Real Ones, The Theoreticians, Whose Language Was Mathematics. She Had Not Understood Mathematics Until He Had Explained To Her That It Was The Symbolic Language Of Relationships. "and Relationships," He Had Told Her, "contained The Essential Meaning Of Life."

In This Unbelievable Universe In Which We Live, There Are No Absolutes. Even Parallel Lines, Reaching Into Infinity, Meet Somewhere Yonder.

Man Was Lost If He Went To A Usurer, For The Interest Ran Faster Than A Tiger Upon Him.

When One Commits One's Self To An Airborne Craft And The Door Is Fastened Against Earth And Home, There Is No Escape Even By Running Away. The Result Is A Strange Sense Of Peace - Desperate, Perhaps, But Peace.