I want it said of me by those who knew me best, that I always plucked a thistle and planted a flower where I thought a flower would grow.

Man would not be man if his dreams did not exceed his grasp. ... Like John Donne, man lies in a close prison, yet it is dear to him. Like Donne's, his thoughts at times overleap the sun and pace beyond the body. If I term humanity a slime mold organism it is because our present environment suggest it. If I remember the sunflower forest it is because from its hidden reaches man arose. The green world is his sacred center. In moments of sanity he must still seek refuge there. ... If I dream by contrast of the eventual drift of the star voyagers through the dilated time of the universe, it is because I have seen thistledown off to new worlds and am at heart a voyager who, in this modern time, still yearns for the lost country of his birth.

All my life I have tried to pluck a thistle and plant a flower wherever the flower would grow in thought and mind.

I want it said of me by those who knew me best that I always plucked a thistle and planted a flower where I thought a flower would grow.