After Each Creative Act One Has To

Such Words As 'god' And 'death' And 'suffering' And 'eternity' Are Best Forgotten. We Have To Become As Simple And As Wordless As The Growing Corn Or The Falling Rain. We Must Just Be.

We Have To Fight Them Daily, Like Fleas, Those Many Small Worries About The Morrow, For They Sap Our Energies. We Make Mental Provisions For The Days To Come, And Everything Turns Out Differently, Quite Differently. Sufficient Unto The Day. The Things That Have To Be Done Must Be Done, And For The Rest We Must Not Allow Ourselves To Become Infested With Thousands Of Petty Fears And Worries.

That Fear Of Missing Out On Things Makes You Miss Out On Everything.

We Should Be Willing To Act As A Balm For All Wounds.

Each Of Us Must Turn Inward And Destroy In Himself All That He Thinks He Ought To Destroy In Others.