A Death Is The Most Terrible Of

Only Love Has Clear Vision. Hatred Has Cloudy Vision. When We Hate We Know Not What We Do.

So We Live; A Spirit That Broods And Hovers Over The Continual Death Of Time, The Lost Meaning, The Unrecaptured Moment, The Unremembered Face, Until The Final Chop That Ends All Our Moments And Plunges That Spirit Back Into The Void From Which It Came.

Time Can Divorce Us From The Reality Of People, It Can Separate Us From People And Turn Them Into Ghosts. Or Rather It Is We Who Turn Them Into Ghosts Or Demons. Some Kinds Of Fruitless Preoccupations With The Past Can Create Such Simulacra, And They Can Exercise Power, Like Those Heroes At Troy Fighting For A Phantom Helen.

He Was A Sociologist; He Had Got Into An Intellectual Muddle Early On In Life And Never Managed To Get Out.

The Entry Of A Child Into Any Situation Changes The Whole Situation.