Sweet To Think On It, That When

When We Are Weary, We Speak Lovingly Of Dreams As If They Embodied Our True Deisres-what We Would Have When That Which We Do Have So Sorely Disappoints Us

-you Are On The Verge Of Being Truly Mad. -no, Not At All. Look At Me. I Can Tie My Shoelaces. See?

And This Lesson About Mortal Peace Of Mind I Never Forgot. Even If A Ghost Is Ripping A House To Pieces, Throwing In Pans All Over, Pouring Water Of Pillows, Making Clocks Chime At All Hours, Mortal Will Accept Almost Any "natural Explanation" Offered, No Matter How Absurd, Rather Than The Obvious Supernatural One, For What Is Going On.

No Matter How Long We Exist, We Have Our Memories. Points In Time Which Time Itself Cannot Erase. Suffering May Distort My Backward Glances, But Even To Suffering, Some Memories Will Yield Nothing Of Their Beauty Or Their Splendor. Rather They Remain As Hard As Gems.

We’re Going To Die And Not Even Know. We’ll Never Know, And All This Meaninglessness Will Just Go On And On And On. And We Won’t Any Longer Be Witnesses To It. We Won’t Have Even That Little Bit Of Power To Give Meaning To It In Our Minds. We’ll Just Be Gone, Dead, Dead, Dead, Without Ever Knowing!