The Human Mind Has Claimed

Childhood Lasts All Through Life.

In Writing, You Discover Interior Sonorities In Words. Dipthongs Sound Differently Beneath The Pen. One Hears Them With Their Sounds Divorced.

Rilke Wrote: 'these Trees Are Magnificent, But Even More Magnificent Is The Sublime And Moving Space Between Them, As Though With Their Growth It Too Increased.

Very Often, I Confess, The Teller Of Dreams Bores Me. His Dream Could Perhaps Interest Me If It Were Frankly Worked On. But To Hear A Glorious Tale Of His Insanity! I Have Not Yet Clarified, Psychoanalytically, This Boredom During The Recital Of Other People's Dreams. Perhaps I Have Retained The Stiffness Of A Rationalist. I Do Not Follow The Tale Of Justified Incoherence Docilely. I Always Suspect That Part Of The Stupidities Being Recounted Are Invented.

The Spoken Reverie Of Substances Calls Matter To Birth, To Life, To Spirituality.