Producing Perfection From Imperfection Is, After All,

I Have No Fear, For Fear Is The Little Death That Kills Me Over And Over. Without Fear, I Die But Once.

There Is In Each Of Us An Ancient Force That Takes And An Ancient Force That Gives. A Man Finds Little Difficulty Facing That Place Within Himself Where The Taking Force Dwells, But It's Almost Impossible For Him To See Into The Giving Force Without Changing Into Something Other Than Man. For A Woman, The Situation Is Reversed. ... These Things Are So Ancient Within Us That They're Ground Into Each Separate Cell Of Our Bodies... It's As Easy To Be Overwhelmed By Giving As By Taking.

The Flesh Surrenders Itself. Eternity Takes Back Its Own. Our Bodies Stirred These Waters Briefly, Danced With A Certain Intoxication Before The Love Of Life And Self, Dealt With A Few Strange Ideas, Then Submitted To The Instruments Of Time. What Can We Say Of This? I Occurred. I Am Not...yet, I Occurred.

Can You Collect Chaos? Not Collecting, That Is The Ultimate Gathering. What Can You Gather Without Gathering Yourself.

Any Man Who Retreats Into A Cave Which Has Only One Opening Deserves To Die.