If You Don't Know Why You Like

He Awoke, Opened His Eye. The Room Meant Very Little To Him; He Was Too Deeply Immersed In The Non-being From Which He Had Just Come. If He Had Not The Energy To Ascertain His Position In Time And Space, He Also Lacked The Desire. ... In Utter Comfort, Utter Relaxation He Lay Absolutely Still For A While, And Then Sank Back Into On The The Light Momentary Sleeps That Occur After A Long, Profound One.

Everyone Is Isolated From Everyone Else. The Concept Of Society Is Like A Cushion To Protect Us From The Knowledge Of That Isolation. A Fiction That Serves As An Anesthetic.

The Hindus Are Busy Letting Themselves Be Seen Riding In Cadillacs Instead Of Smearing Themselves With Sandalwood Paste And Bowing In Front Of Ganpati. The Moslems Would Rather Miss Evening Prayer Than The New Disney Movie. The Buddhists Think It's More Important To Take Over In The Name Of Stalin And Progress Than To Meditate On The Four Basic Sorrows. And We Don't Even Have To Mention Christianity Or Judaism.

Not All The Ravages Caused By Our Merciless Age Are Tangible Ones. The Subtler Forms Of Destruction, Those Involving Only The Human Spirit, Are The Most To Be Dreaded.

Because We Don't Know When We Will Die, We Get To Think Of Life As An Inexhaustible Well. Yet Everything Happens Only A Certain Number Of Times, And A Very Small Number Really. How Many More Times Will You Remember A Certain Afternoon Of Your Childhood, An Afternoon That Is So Deeply A Part Of Your Being That You Can't Even Conceive Of Your Life Without It? Perhaps Four Or Five Times More, Perhaps Not Even That. How Many More Times Will You Watch The Full Moon Rise? Perhaps 20. And Yet It All Seems Limitless.