We're All Curious About What Might Hurt

I Know There Is No Straight Road No Straight Road In This World Only A Giant Labyrinth Of Intersecting Crossroads

New York Is A Meeting Place For Every Race In The World, But The Chinese, Armenians, Russians, And Germans Remain Foreigners. So Does Everyone Except The Blacks. There Is No Doubt But That The Blacks Exercise Great Influence In North America, And, No Matter What Anyone Says, They Are The Most Delicate, Spiritual Element In That World.

The Terrible, Cold, Cruel Part Is Wall Street. Rivers Of Gold Flow There From All Over The Earth, And Death Comes With It. There, As Nowhere Else, You Feel A Total Absence Of The Spirit: Herds Of Men Who Cannot Count Past Three, Herds More Who Cannot Get Past Six, Scorn For Pure Science And Demoniacal Respect For The Present. And The Terrible Thing Is That The Crowd That Fills The Street Believes That The World Will Always Be The Same And That It Is Their Duty To Keep That Huge Machine Running, Day And Night, Forever.

The Terrible Thing Is That The Crowd That Fills The Street Believes That The World Will Always Be The Same And That It Is Their Duty To Keep That Huge Machine Running, Day And Night, Forever. This Is What Comes Of A Protestant Morality, That I, As A (thank God) Typical Spaniard, Found Unnerving.

If Blue Is Dream What Then Innocence? What Awaits The Heart If Love Bears No Arrows?