Man's passion for truth is such that he will welcome the bitterest of all postulates so long as it strikes him as true.

Man's passion for truth is such that he will welcome the bitterest of all postulates so long as it strikes him as true.

I. Don't trace out your profile-- forget your side view-- all that is outer stuff. II. Look for your other half who walks always next to you and tends to be who you aren't.

Has my heart gone to sleep? Have the beehives of my dreams stopped working, the waterwheel of the mind run dry, scoops turning empty, only shadow inside? No, my heart is not asleep. It is awake, wide awake. Not asleep, not dreaming— its eyes are opened wide watching distant signals, listening on the rim of vast silence

I thought my fire was out, and stirred the ashes…. I burnt my fingers.

Life is the path you beat while you walk it It's the walking that beats the path It is not the path that makes the walk

The afternoon is bright, with spring in the air, a mild March afternoon, with the breath of April stirring, I am alone in the quiet patio looking for some old untried illusion - some shadow on the whiteness of the wall some memory asleep on the stone rim of the fountain, perhaps in the air the light swish of some trailing gown.