The Truth Is How You

When One Wants To Become Cognizant Of The Color And The Texture Of The Soil, One Does Not Get A Ladder; One Gets A Shovel. When One Wants To Get Into Touch With The Texture Of The Universal Mind, One Does Not Go To Boston; One Goes To The Bowery.

“god,” She Cried, “what Is Love? Man Seeking His Own Head? The Human Head, So Rented By Misery That Even The Teeth Weigh! She Couldn't Tell Me The Truth Because She Had Never Planned It; Her Life Was A Continual Accident, And How Can You Be Prepared For That? Everything We Can't Bear In This World, Some Day We Find In One Person, And Love It All At Once.”

Destiny And History Are Untidy.

The Whole World Is Nothing But A Noise, As Hot As The Inside Of A Tiger's Mouth. They Call It Civilization - That Is A Lie! But Some Day You May Have To Go Out, Someone Will Try To Take You Out, And You Will Not Understand Them Or What They Are Saying, Unless You Understand Nothing, Absolutely Nothing, Then You Will Manage.

The Priceless Galaxy Of Misinformation Called The Mind.