To Live Is To Feel Oneself Lost.

In Their Choice Of Lovers Both The Male And The Female Reveal Their Essential Nature. The Type Of Human Being We Prefer Reveals The Contours Of Our Heart. Love Is An Impulse Which Springs From The Most Profound Depths Of Our Beings, And Upon Reaching The Visible Surface Of Life Carries With It An Alluvium Of Shells And Seaweed From The Inner Abyss. A Skilled Naturalist, By Filing These Materials, Can Reconstruct The Oceanic Depths From Which They Have Been Uprooted.

Life, Individual Or Collective, Personal Or Historic, Is The One Entity In The Universe Whose Substance Is Compact Of Danger, Of Adventure. It Is, In The Strict Sense Of The Word, Drama. The Primary, Radical Meaning Of Life Appears When It Is Employed In The Sense Not Of Biology, But Of Biography. For The Very Strong Reason That The Whole Of Biology Is Quite Definitely Only A Chapter In Certain Biographies, It Is What Biologists Do In The Portion Of Their Lives Open To Biography.

Triumph Cannot Help Being Cruel.

The Metaphor Is Perhaps One Of Man's Most Fruitful Potentialities. Its Efficacy Verges On Magic, And It Seems A Tool For Creation Which God Forgot Inside One Of His Creatures When He Made Him.

When You Are Fed Up With The Troublesome Present, You Take Your Gun, Whistle For Your Dog, Go Out To The Mountain, And, Without Further Ado, Give Yourself The Pleasure During A Few Hours Or A Few Days Of Being "paleolithic."