Life, friends, is boring. We must not say so. After all, the sky flashes, the great sea yearns, we ourselves flash and yearn, and moreover my mother told me as a boy (repeatedly) Ever to confess you're bored means you have no inner Resources. I conclude now I have no inner resources, because I am heavy bored.
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There is no mistaking a real book when one meets it. It is like falling in love, and like that colossal adventure it is an experience of great social import. Even as the tranced swain, the booklover yearns to tell others of his bliss. He writes letters about it, adds it to the postscript of all manner of communications, intrudes it into telephone messages, and insists on his friends writing down the title of the find. Like the simple-hearted betrothed, once certain of his conquest,
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He who is conceived in a cage, yearns for the cage.
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If one yearns to see the face of the Divine, one must break out of the aquarium, escape the fish farm, to go swim up wild cataracts, dive in deep fjords. One must explore the labyrinth of the reef, the shadows of the lily pads. How limiting, how insulting to think of God as a benevolent warden, an absentee hatchery manager who imprisons us in the 'comfort' of artificial pools, where intermediaries sprinkle our restrictive waters with sanitized flakes of processed nutriment.
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What is ten thousand years? Time is short for one who thinks, endless for one who yearns.
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What is a thousand years Time is short for one who thinks, endless for one who yearns.
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In all ranks of life the human heart yearns for the beautiful; and the beautiful things that God makes are his gift to all alike.
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That man is a creature who needs order yet yearns for change is the creative contradiction at the heart of the laws which structure his conformity and define his deviancy.
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Man is the only creature that strives to surpass himself, and yearns for the impossible.
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