An Excess Of Childhood Is The Germ

The Poetic Image Exists Apart From Causality.

Of Course, Any Simplification Runs The Risk Of Mutilating Reality; But It Helps Us Establish Perspectives.

In Our View Any Awareness Is An Increment To Consciousness, An Added Light, A Reinforcement Of Psychic Coherence. Its Swiftness Or Instantaneity Can Hide This Growth From Us. But There Is A Growth Of Being In Every Instance Of Awareness. Consciousness Is In Itself An Act, The Human Act.

All Knowledge Is In Response To A Question. If There Were No Question, There Would Be No Scientific Knowledge. Nothing Proceeds From Itself.

We Comfort Ourselves By Reliving Memories Of Protection. Something Closed Must Retain Our Memories, While Leaving Them Their Original Value As Images. Memories Of The Outside World Will Never Have The Same Tonality As Those Of Home And, By Recalling These Memories, We Add To Our Store Of Dreams; We Are Never Real Historians, But Always Near Poets, And Our Emotion Is Perhaps Nothing But An Expression Of A Poetry That Was Lost.