Thetorment of human frustration, whatever its immediate cause,is the knowledge that the self is in prison, its vital force and ‘mangledmind’ leaking away in lonely, wasteful self-conflict.
Twoprisoners whose cells adjoin communicate with each other by knocking on thewall. The wall is the thing which separates them but is also their means ofcommunication. It is the same with us and God. Every separation is a link.
Artists can color the sky red because they know its blue.those of us who are not artists must color things the way they really are or people might think we are stupid.
