Each Man Must Have His Own Special

The Human Soul Is Heavy, Clumsy, Held In The Mud Of The Flesh. Its Perceptions Are Still Coarse And Brutish. It Can Divine Nothing Clearly, Nothing With Certainty.

He Who Is Invisible Sees More Clearly, Hears More Clearly, And Is Better Able To Read The Thoughts Of Men.

Freedom Was My First Great Desire. The Second, Which Remains Hidden Within Me To This Day, Tormenting Me, Was The Desire For Sanctity. Hero Together With Saint: Such Is Mankind's Supreme Model.

It Was Certainly Not This Mummified And Outrageously Painted Old Woman He Was Seeing Before Him, But The Entire "female Species," As It Was His Custom To Call Women. The Individual Disappeared, The Features Were Obliterated, Whether Young Or Senile, Beautiful Or Ugly - Those Were Mere Unimportant Variations. Behind Each Woman Rises The Austere, Sacred And Mysterious Face Of Aphrodite.

To Cleave That Sea [the Aegean] In The Gentle Autumnal Season, Murmuring The Name Of Each Islet, Is To My Mind The Joy Most Apt To Transport The Heart Of Man Into Paradise.