Nature Is What You Don't Have To

The End Of Poetry Is Not To Create A Physical Condition Which Shall Give Pleasure To The Mind... The End Of Poetry Is Not An After-effect, Not A Pleasurable Memory Of Itself, But An Immediate, Constant And Even Unpleasant Insistence Upon Itself.

Shakespeare Alternated Between Musical Surrenders To Social Prestige And Magnificent Fits Of Poetic Remorse.

Evil I Had Never Found Satisfactorily Placeable As An Integral Element Of The Universal, Or Total, Content Of Existence. Indeed, Evil Is Evil Just Because There Is No Logical Place For It, No Room In Reality For It. It Is Unreal, And Yet Real As Something Unreal.

Women From Earliest Times Have Been Used As Conveniences Of Communication With Unseen, Inaccessible Powers, But Always In The Sense That Such Exposing Of Self To Dangerous Mysteries, Such Destruction Of The Understanding As Was Required To Become The Slave Of Unseen Powers, Did Not Matter Because The Communicant Was Only A Woman, In Herself An Undetermined Cipher - A Nothing.

To Tell One Comprehensive Story Of How It Has Happened That What Is Is, One Which Shall Hold True, Come What May, Now-after - A Story That Whatever Comes Shall Perfectly Continue Or Confirm: Such Is The Ideal Motive Of Religions.