Sooner Or Later People Will Learn To

Oh Mysterious World Of All Light, Thou Hast Made A Light Shine Within Me, And I Have Grown In Admiration Of Thy Antique Beauty, Which Is The Immemorial Youth Of Nature.

How Do You See Those Tree?... They Are Yellow. Well Then Put Down Yellow. And That Shadow Is Rather Blue. So Render It With Pure Ultramarine. Those Red Leaves? Use Vermillion.

Silence! I Am Learning To Know The Silence Of A Tahitian Night.

Let Everything About You Breathe The Calm And Peace Of The Soul.

The Missionary Is No Longer A Man, A Conscience. He Is A Corpse, In The Hands Of A Confraternity, Without Family, Without Love, Without Any Of The Sentiments That Are Dear To Us. Emasculated, In A Sense, By His Vow Of Chastity, He Offers Us The Distressing Spectacle Of A Man Deformed And Impotent Or Engaged In A Stupid And Useless Struggle With The Sacred Needs Of The Flesh, A Struggle Which, Seven Times Out Of Ten, Leads Him To Sodomy, The Gallows, Or Prison.