I think it would be well to consider the high duties and the responsibilities of the makers of literature.
The writers are not separate and exclusive,
so that only the human heart in conflict with itself seemed worth writing about.
With dredging up to the light our dark and dangerous dreams for the purpose of improvement.
The writer is delegated to declare and to celebrate man's proven capacity for greatness of heart and spirit,
With humanity's long proud history of standing firm against natural enemies,
Fearful and unprepared, we have assumed lordship over the life or death of the whole world - of all living things.
Man himself has become our greatest hazard and our only hope.