It was a morning in early summer. A silver haze shimmered and trembled over the lime trees. The air was laden with their fragrance. The temperature was like a caress. I remember - I need not recall - that I climbed up a tree stump and felt suddenly immersed in Itness. I did not call it by that name. I had no need for words. It and I were one.

Consistency requires you to be as ignorant today as you were a year ago.

Government is the art of the momentary feasible, of the least bad attainable, and not of the rationally most desirable.

I wonder whether art has a higher function than to make me feel, appreciate, and enjoy natural objects for their art value?

Government lasts as long as the under-taxed can defend themselves against the over-taxed.

One can repent even of having repented.

There are two futures, the future of desire and the future of fate, and man's reason has never learnt to separate them.