The History Of My Stupidity Would Fill

The Vineyard Country, Russet, Reddish, Carmine-brown In This Season. A Blue Outline Of Hills Above A Fertile Valley. It's Warm As Long As The Sun Does Not Set, In The Shade Cold Returns. A Strong Sauna And Then Swimming In A Pool Surrounded By Trees. Dark Redwoods, Transparent Pale-leved Birches. In Their Delicate Network, A Sliver Of The Moon. I Describe This For I Have Learned To Doubt Philosophy And The Visible World Is All That Remains.

What Is This Enigmatic Impulse That Does Not Allow One To Settle Down In The Achieved, The Finished? I Think It Is A Quest For Reality.

Men Will Clutch At Illusions When They Have Nothing Else To Hold To.

I've Always Regretted That I'm Made Of Contradictions. But, If Contradiction Is Impossible To Overcome, We Have To Accept Both Its Ends.

Human Reason Is Beautiful And Invincible. No Bars, No Barbed Wire, No Pulping Of Books, No Sentence Of Banishment Can Prevail Against It. It Puts What Should Be Above Things As They Are. It Does Not Know Jew From Greek Nor Slave From Master.