Any chance beats no chance.

I cannot teach -- if I teach as teaching should be I become so exhausted I nearly die, I seem to have no middle gear.

Certainly my inner world will never be a peaceful place of bloom; it will have some peace, and occasional riots of bloom, but always a little fight going on too. There is no way I can be peacefully happy in this society and in this skin. I am committed to Uneasy Street. I like it; it is my idea that this street leads to the future, and that I am being true to a way of life which is not here yet, but is more real than what is here.

I am one of those that always get accidentally guillotined when the Great Day of Liberation comes, because ... I guess ... I am full of parentheses. Revolutions can't abide parentheses.

Evil is the voltage of good; the urge to goodness, without the potential of evil, is trivial.

I dreamed horse and lived horse and expected, if necessary, to marry a horse; for all practical purposes I was a horse.

Being, I imagine, must be very simple. It is Becoming which is so messy and which I am all for.