Pleasure Is The Carrot Dangled To Lead

The World's In A Bad Way, My Man, And Bound To Be Worse Before It Mends; Better Lie Up In The Mountain Here Four Or Five Centuries, While The Stars Go Over The Lonely Ocean.

We Have To Live Like People In A Web Of Knives, We Mustn't Reach Out Our Hands Or We Get Them Gashed.

O That Our Souls Could Scale A Height Like This, A Mighty Mountain Swept O'er By The Bleak Keen Winds Of Heaven; And, Standing On That Peak Above The Blinding Clouds Of Prejudice, Would We Could See All Truly As It Is; The Calm Eternal Truth Would Keep Us Meek.

[k]now That However Ugly The Parts Appear The Whole Remains Beautiful. A Severed Hand Is An Ugly Thing, And Man Dissevered From The Earth And Stars And His History... For Contemplation Or In Fact... Often Appears Atrociously Ugly. Integrity Is Wholeness, The Greatest Beauty Is Organic Wholeness, The Wholeness Of Life And Things, The Divine Beauty Of The Universe.

There Is No Reason For Amazement: Surely One Always Knew That Cultures Decay, And Life's End Is Death.