Small Jerks Began To Appear In My

I Was Conscious All The Time That I Was Following Mad Whims Without Being Able To Do Anything About It … . Despite My Alienation From Myself At That Moment, And Even Though I Was Nothing But A Battleground For Invisible Forces, I Was Aware Of Every Detail Of What Was Going On Around Me.

Great Men Are Excellent Topics Of Conversation, But The Superior Man, The Superior Men, The Masters, The Universal Spirits On Horseback, Have To Stop And Search Their Memories Merely To Know Who These So-called Great Men Might Be. And So The Great Man Is Left With The Crowd, The Worthless Majority...for His Admirers.

In Old Age We Are Like A Batch Of Letters That Someone Has Sent. We Are No Longer In The Past, We Have Arrived.

And The Great Spirit Of Darkness Spread A Shroud Over Me...everything Was Silent-everything. But Upon The Heights Soughed The Everlasting Song, The Voice Of The Air, The Distant, Toneless Humming Which Is Never Silent.

Language Must Resound With All The Harmonies Of Music. The Writer Must Always, At All Times, Find The Tremulous Word Which Captures The Thing And Is Able To Draw A Sob From My Soul By Its Very Rightness.