We Cannot Cure The Evils Of Politics

Your Strength Is Soft, Indirect, Delicate, Tender, Womanly. But It Is Strength Just The Same.

I Hate Rarely, Though When I Hate, I Hate Murderously.

You Cannot Save People. You Can Only Love Them.

It Is In The Movements Of Emotional Crisis That Human Beings Reveal Themselves Most Accurately.

You Are So Terribly Nimble, So Clever. I Distrust Your Cleverness. You Make A Wonderful Pattern, Everything Is In Its Place, It Looks Convincingly Clear, Too Clear. And Meanwhile, Where Are You? Not On The Clear Surface Of Your Ideas, But You Have Already Sunk Deeper, Into Darker Regions, So That One Only Thinks One Has Been Given All Your Thoughts, One Only Imagines You Have Emptied Yourself In That Clarity. But There Are Layers And Layers - You're Bottomless, Unfathomable. Your Clearness Is Deceptive. You Are The Thinker Who Arouses Most Confusion In Me, Most Doubt, Most Disturbance.