In Order To Cure A Feeling Of

The Field Of Consciousness Is Tiny. It Accepts Only One Problem At A Time.

Cries Of Despair, Misery, Sobbing Grief Are A Kind Of Wealth.

But Eyes Are Blind. You Have To Look With The Heart.

You Will Have Five Hundred Million Little Bells, And I Shall Have Five Hundred Million Springs Of Fresh Water.

I Will Appoint Captains To Rule My Cities, For It Is In The Compelling Zest Of High Adventure And Of Victory, And In Creative Action, That Man Finds His Supreme Joys.