For me. . . it's the only life That I've ever known And love is only one. . . Fine star. . . away Even though the living Is sometimes laced with lies. . . It's alright. . . The feeling remains Even after the glitter fades
The sense of wonder, that is our sixth sense.
The dead don't die. They look on and help.
This is the very worst wickedness, that we refuse to acknowledge the passionate evil that is in us. This makes us secret and rotten.
For man, as for flower and beast and bird, the supreme triumph is to be most vividly, most perfectly alive.
Patience! Patience! The world is a vast and ghastly intricacy of mechanism, and one has to be very wary, not to get mangled by it.
In masturbation there is nothing but loss. There is no reciprocity. There is merely the spending away of a certain force, and no return. The body remains, in a sense, a corpse, after the act of self-abuse. There is no change, only deadening. There is what we call dead loss. And this is not the case in any act of sexual intercourse between two people. Two people may destroy one another in sex. But they cannot just produce the null effect of masturbation.
I don't always just want to do the same thing.
I mean that I think I find the psychology of people more interesting than politics. I think the psychology of politics is more interesting than straight politics.
Is there in every work of art something which shows reality as one and also something which shows reality as many and diverse? - must every work of art have a simultaneous presence of oneness and manyness, unity and variety?
For great men, religion is a way of making friends; small people make religion a fighting tool.