We are part of a symbiotic relationship with something which disguises itself as an extra-terrestrial invasion so as not to alarm us.

It seems to me that right under the surface of human neurological organization is a mode shift of some sort that would make language beholdable.

I'm not an abuser. It takes me a long time to assimilate each experience. And I never have lost my respect for it. I mean I really feel dread. It is one of the emotions I always feel as I approach it, because I have no faith that my sails won't be ripped this time.

Alchemy is about the generation of a psychic construct, a wholeness, a thing which has many properties, which is paradoxical, which is both mind and matter, which can do anything.

Flying saucers are nothing more than miracles, and they occur essentially to bedevil science.

It's getting funnier because everybody's categories are disintegrating, and the cult of political correctness dictates that we never point out that other people don't make sense.

What you call man is time.