“It is not that I believe ideals are unimportant, even among the realities of war…” — Charles Lindbergh

How long can men thrive between walls of brick, walking on asphalt pavements, breathing the fumes of coal and oil, growing, working, dying, with hardly a thought of wind, and sky, and fields of grain, seeing only machine-made beauty, the mineral-like quality of life?

Time is no longer endless or the horizon destitute of hope.

To be absolutely alone for the first time in the cockpit of a plane hundreds of feet above the ground is an experience never to be forgotten.

We must learn from the sermons of Christ, the wisdom of Laotzu, the teachings of Buddha.