We are creatures of information and the imagination. The monkey we are already beginning to transform and shed. We don't look like the other monkeys, and we look less like them all the time.

Life, carefully examined, is actually a form of allegorical literature with a very tight constructural grid laid over it.

The human imagination, in conjunction with technology, has become a force so potent that it really can no longer be unleashed on the surface of the planet with safety.

Mind conjures miracles out of time.

Hallucinogenic plants act as enzymes which stimulate imagination.

If the ego is not regularly and repeatedly dissolved in the unbounded hyperspace of the Transcendent Other, there will always be slow drift away from the sense of self as part of nature’s larger whole. The ultimate consequence of this drift is the fatal ennui that now permeates Western Civilization.

I think that a lot of people are making a lot of money spreading anxiety. Anxiety sells.