Rene Char

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There will come a time when nations in this hopscotch ring of a world will

be as strictly dependent on one another as organs of the same body, all

bound to its economy.


Will the brain, bursting with machines, still be able to furnish its slender

rivulet of dream and escape? Man, like a sleepwalker, is marching toward

deadly mine fields, led on by the singing of inventors . . .


Rene Char



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