I Love Those Who Do Not Know

Man Is At His Furthest Remove From The Animal As A Child, His Intellect Most Human. With His Fifteenth Year And Puberty He Comes Astep Closer To The Animal; With The Sense Of Possessions Of His Thirties (the Median Line Between Laziness And Greediness), Still Another Step. In His Sixtieth Year Of Life He Frequently Loses His Modesty As Well, Then The Septuagenarian Steps Up To Us As A Completely Unmasked Beast: One Need Only Look At The Eyes And The Teeth.

In Our Own Presence, We All Pretend To Be Simpler Than We Are: Thus We Take A Break From Our Fellow Human Beings.

The Great Poet Draws His Creations Only From Out Of His Own Reality.

Without Myth, However, Every Culture Loses Its Healthy Creative Natural Power: It Is Only A Horizon Encompassed With Myth That Rounds Off To Unity A Social Movement.

We Must Understand How To Hide In Darkness In Order To Escape The Gnat-swarms Of Utterly Annoying Admirers.