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
