I Am An Old Man Who Will

I Thought That All Generations Were Lost By Something And Always Had Been And Always Would Be

Bullfighting Is The Only Art In Which The Artist Is In Danger Of Death And In Which The Degree Of Brilliance In The Performance Is Left To The Fighter's Honor.

The Writer's Job Is Not To Judge, But To Seek To Understand.

For Him It Was A Dark Passage Which Led To Nowhere, Then To Nowhere, Then Again To Nowhere, Once Again To Nowhere, Always And Forever To Nowhere, Heavy On The Elbows In The Earth To Nowhere, Dark, Never Any End To Nowhere, Hung On All Time Always To Unknowing Nowhere, This Time And Again For Always To Nowhere, Now Not To Be Borne Once Again Always And To Nowhere, Now Beyond All Bearing Up, Up, Up And Into Nowhere, Suddenly, Scaldingly, Holdingly All Nowhere Gone And Time Absolutely Still And They Were Both There, Time Having Stopped And He Felt The Earth Move Out And Away From Under Them.

The World Breaks Everyone Or Nearly Everyone, Of Their Childish Illusions, Assumptions And Wishes, Often Painfully And Afterwards Due To The Personal Growth In Practical Experience, Insight And The Resulting Wisdom Many Are Strong At The Broken Places Just Like Mended Broken Bones Often Are, And Some People Even Have The Great Insight To Be Grateful For The Purifying Fire.