We must pass through solitude and difficulty, isolation and silence, to find that enchanted place where we can dance our clumsy dance and sing our sorrowful song. But in that dance, and in that song, the most ancient rites of our conscience fulfill themselves in the awareness of being human.
We are not yet what we shall be,
but we are growing toward it;
the process is not yet finished,
but it is going on;
this is not the end,
but it is the road.