I've drifted in and out of vegetarianism for years.

If we do want to do that [ colonise space to survive, ], then vacuous materialism is not going to be enough for us.

The peculiar thing is that, in focusing only on the here and now, Buddhism seems to despise the world.

She [me muse] feels most at home in autumn, nonetheless, she is glad of the other seasons and loves them all. Without the others she would be unable to feel most at home in autumn, besides which, she almost feels most at home in all of them.

The quality of that 'who I am', is what I hope comes out in the writing.

I never seem to find what I'm looking for, though. I suppose I feel, these days, too aware of schedules and things, to let myself get lost in the rain. Anyway, I came back home, and it was still raining, and as I was approaching the driveway of the house, and the front garden with its bushy flower bed, I caught a cooking smell from somewhere on the air. I don't know why, exactly, but it appealed to me as a Nagai Kafu moment.

You might call this innocence. I had a sense of another world that had not been spoken of to me.