I Am A Book I Neither Wrote

How Could I Think The Brief Years Were Enough To Prove The Reality Of Endless Love?

Whence, If Ever, Shall Come The Actualityof A Voice Speaking The Mind's Knowing,the Sunlight Bright On The Green Windowshade,and The Self Articulate, Affectionate, And Flowing,ease, Warmth, Light, The Utter Showing,when In The White Bed All Things Are Made.

The Jew Is At Once Alienated And Indestructible; He Is In Exile From His Own Country And In Exile Even From Himself, Yet He Survives The Annihilating Fury Of History.

Order And Disorder, Form And Formless Must Have Profound Psychological Roots, Nervous Roots.

I Admired My Father Very Much... At The Age Of Sixteen. But Now I See That He Was A Brutal And Cruel Man, - But Not Without Remorse, And That Was What Tortured Us, His Alternations.