Once you abstract from this, once you generalize and postulate Universals, you have departed from the creative reality, and entered the realm of static fixity, mechanism, materialism.

It always seemed to me that men wore their beards, like they wear their neckties, for show.

We've got to live, no matter how many skies have fallen.

Build then the ship of death, for you must take the longest journey, to oblivion.

Men are free when they are obeying some deep, inward voice of religious belief. Obeying from within. Men are free when they belong to a living, organic, believing community, active in fulfilling some unfulfilled, perhaps unrealized purpose. Not when they are escaping to some wild west. The most unfree souls go west, and shout of freedom.

You're spending your life without renewing it. You've got to be amused, properly healthily amused. You're spending your vitality without making any. Can't go on you know. Depression! Avoid depression!

The Moon! Artemis! the great goddess of the splendid past of men! Are you going to tell me she is a dead lump?