You Live Out The Confusions

We Don't Have A Language For The Senses. Feelings Are Images, Sensations Are Like Musical Sounds.

I Have Seen Romanticism Outlast The Realistic. I Have Seen Men Forget The Beautiful Women They Have Possessed, Forget The Prostitutes, And Remember The First Woman They Idolized, The Woman They Could Never Have. The Woman Who Aroused Them Romantically Holds Them.

Our Culture Made A Virtue Of Living Only As Extroverts. We Discouraged The Inner Journey, The Quest For A Center. So We Lost Our Center And Have To Find It Again.

You Live Like This, Sheltered, In A Delicate World, And You Believe You Are Living.

Creation Which Cannot Express Itself Becomes Madness.