We Are Afraid Of The

A Book Has To Dig Through The Wounds, More, It Has Cause A New One, A Book It Has To Be Dangerous.

The Wise Man, The Sage, Is Hostile To The New. Disabused, He Abdicates: That Is His Form Of Protest.

What Is That One Crucifixion Compared To The Daily Kind Any Insomniac Endures?

Illusion Begets And Sustains The World; We Do Not Destroy One Without Destroying The Other. Which Is What I Do Every Day. An Apparently Ineffectual Operation, Since I Must Begin All Over Again The Next Day.

The Amount Of Chiaroscuro An Idea Harbors Is The Only Index Of Its Profundity.