Man Does Not Fear Death, Only The

You Are Ugly When You Love Her, You Are Beautiful And Fresh, Vital And Free, Modern And Poetic When You Don't... You Are More Beautiful As An Orphan Than As Your Mother's Son.

We Say 'forest' But This Word Is Made Of The Unknown, The Unfamiliar, The Unencompassed. The Earth. Clods Of Dirt. Pebbles. On A Clear Day You Rest Among Ordinary, Everyday Things That Have Been Familiar To You Since Childhood, Grass, Bushes, A Dog (or A Cat), A Chair, But That Changes When You Realize That Every Object Is An Enormous Army, An Inexhaustible Swarm.

Not Surprisingly, Because Too Much Attention To One Object Leads To Distraction, This One Object Conceals Everything Else, And When We Focus On One Point On The Map We Know That All Other Points Are Eluding Us.

Don't Be Fooled By Your Own Wisdom

I Could Have Protested Of Course, Who Says I Couldn't--i Could Have Risen To My Feet At Any Moment, Walked Up To Them, And--no Matter How Difficult It Would Have Been--made It Abundantly Clear That I Was Not Seventeen But Thirty. I Could Have--yet I Couldn't Because I Didn't Want To, The Only Thing I Wanted Was To Prove That I Was Not An Old-fashioned Boy!