Not to know one's true identity is to be a mad, disensouled thing — a golem. And, indeed, this image, sick-eningly Orwellian, applies to the mass of human beings now living in the high-tech industrial democracies. Their authenticity lies in their ability to obey and follow mass style changes that are conveyed through the media. Immersed in junk food, trash media, and cryp-tofascist politics, they are condemned to toxic lives of low awareness. Sedated by the prescripted daily television fix, they are a living dead, lost to all but the act of consuming.

Don't diddle the dose. Once you have done your homework, go for it.

Television, while chemically non-invasive, nevertheless is every bit as addicting and physiologically damaging as any other drug.

Nature and the imagination seem to be the precursors to involvement in the psychedelic experience.

The possibility seems to be that what we call styles, or what we call motifs, are actually categories in the unconscious.

We are going through the eye of the needle; make sure you leave what you don't need behind

On these matters of specific fact, like is the mushroom an extraterrestrial and that sort of thing, I haven't the faintest idea. The mushroom itself is such a mercurial, elusive, Zen sort of personality that I never believe a word it says. I simply entertain its notions and try and sort through them, and I found that to be the most enriching approach to it.