Life without idealism is empty indeed. We just hope or starve to death.
Pearl S. Buck
The truly creative mind in any field is no more than this: A human creature born abnormally, inhumanly sensitive.<br/>To him..<br/>a touch is a blow,<br/>a sound is a noise,<br/>a misfortune is a tragedy,<br/>a joy is an ecstasy,<br/>a friend is a lover,<br/>a lover is a god,<br/>and failure is death.<br/>Add to this cruelly delicate organism the overpowering necessity to create, create, create - - - so that without the creating of music or poetry or books or buildings or something of meaning, his very breath is cut off from him. He must create, must pour out creation. By some strange, unknown, inward urgency he is not really alive unless he is creating.
poetry sound necessity failure misfortune mind death music creativity human creation meaning unknown joy breath creative tragedy friend alive ecstasy create born touch strange lover noise creating sensitive god books
In the midst of possible world war, of wholesale destruction, I find my only question this: are there enough people now who believe? Is there time enough left for the wise to act? It is a contest between ignorance and death, or wisdom and life. My faith in humanity stands firm.
life wisdom people faith death thetimes time war
life death
To eat bread without hope is still slowly to starve to death.
death
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