I Do Not Believe...i Know.

It Is My Mind, With Its Store Of Images, That Gives The World Color And Sound; And That Supremely Real And Rational Certainty Which I Can "experience" Is, In Its Most Simple Form, An Exceedingly Complicated Structure Of Mental Images. Thus There Is, In A Certain Sense, Nothing That Is Directly Experienced Except The Mind Itself. Everything Is Mediated Through The Mind, Translated, Filtered, Allegorized, Twisted, Even Falsified By It. We Are . . . Enveloped In A Cloud Of Changing And Endlessly Shifting Images.

A Dream That Is Not Understood Remains A Mere Occurrence; Understood It Becomes A Living Experience.

Nothing Is More Repulsive Than A Furtively Prurient Spirituality; It Is Just As Unsavoury As Gross Sensuality.

We Deem Those Happy Who From The Experience Of Life Have Learnt To Bear Its Ills Without Being Overcome By Them.

Envy Does Not Allow Humanity To Sleep.