Before A Secret Is Told, One Can

How Many Small Decisions Accumulate To Form A Habit? What A Multitude Of Decisions, Made By Others, In Other Times, Must Shape Our Lives Now.

The Hard Surface Of The Stone Is Impervious To Nothing In The End. The Heat Of The Sun Leaves Evidence Of Daylight. Each Drop Of Rain Changes The Form; Even The Wind And The Air Itself, Invisible To Our Eyes, Etches Its Presence. … All History Is Taken In By Stones.

The Hope You Feel When You Are In Love Is Not Necessarily For Anything In Particular. Love Brings Something Inside You To Life. Perhaps It Is Just The Full Dimensionality Of Your Own Capacity To Feel That Returns. In This State You Think No Impediment Can Be Large Enough To Interrupt Your Passion. The Feeling Spills Beyond The Object Of Your Love To Color The Whole World. The Mood Is Not Unlike The Mood Of Revolutionaries In The First Blush Of Victory, At The Dawn Of Hope. Anything Seems Possible. And In The Event Of Failure, It Will Be This Taste Of Possibility That Makes Disillusion Bitter.

Just As The Slave Master Required The Slaves To Imitate The Image He Had Of Them, So Women, Who Live In A Relatively Powerless Position, Politically And Economically, Feel Obliged By A Kind Of Implicit Force To Live Up To Culture's Image Of What Is Female.

War Starts In The Mind, Not In The Body.