My words fly up, my thoughts remain below: Words without thoughts never to heaven go.

For ages the world has been waiting and watching; millions, with broken hearts, have hovered around the yawning abyss; but no echo has come back from the engulfing gloom —silence, oblivion, covers all. If indeed they survive; if they went away whole and victorious, they give us no signals. We wait for years, but no messages come from the far-away shore to which they have gone.

The world speaks to us, but often in no more than a whisper. Most teachers do not repeat themselves, do not beg for us to sit and be quiet and listen

Today the earth speaks with resonance and clearness and every ear in every civilized country of the world is attuned to its wonderful message of the creative evolution of man, except the ear of William Jennings Bryan; he alone remains stone-deaf, he alone by his own resounding voice drowns the eternal speech of nature.

This is. And thou art. There is no safety. There is no end. The word must be heard in silence. There must be darkness to see the stars. The dance is always danced above the hollow place, above the terrible abyss.

Where shall the word be found, where will the word
Resound? Not here, there is not enough silence...

Somebody said...We got to find the words Got to, got to be an answer there Somebody said that...You never get heard 'Cause nobody really cares.