The Devil...the Prowde Spirite...cannot Endure

Go Where We May, Rest Where We Will, Eternal London Haunts Us Still.

The Key To Seeing The World's Soul, And In The Process Wakening Our Own, Is To Get Over The Confusion By Which We Think That Fact Is Real And Imagination Is Illusion.

When We Relate To Our Bodies As Having Soul, We Attend To Their Beauty, Their Poetry And Their Expressiveness. Our Very Habit Of Treating The Body As A Machine, Whose Muscles Are Like Pulleys And Its Organs Engines, Forces Its Poetry Underground, So That We Experience The Body As An Instrument And See Its Poetics Only In Illness.

The Problem In Narcissism Is Not The High Ideals And Ambitions, It's The Difficulty One Encounters When Trying To Give Them Body.

Disguise Our Bondage As We Will, 'tis Woman, Woman, Rules Us Still.