How Cruel My Suffering Is,—no One Is

The Warrior's Nobility Is Like A Prostitute's Smile, The Truth Of Which Is Self-interest.

By Inner Experience I Understand That Which One Usually Calls Mystical Experience: The States Of Ecstasy, Of Rapture, At Least Of Meditated Emotion. But I Am Thinking Less Of Confessional Experience, To Which One Has Had To Adhere Up To Now, That Of An Experience Laid Bare, Free Of Ties, Even Of An Origin, Of Any Confession Whatever. This Is Why I Don't Like The Word Mystical.

The Analysis Of Laughter Had Opened To Me Points Of Contact Between The Fundamentals Of A Communal And Disciplined Emotional Knowledge And Those Of Discursive Knowledge.

We Want To Decipher Skies And Paintings, Go Behind These Starry Backgrounds Or These Painted Canvases And, Like Kids Trying To Find A Gap In A Fence, Try To Look Through The Cracks In The World.

Intellectual Despair Results In Neither Weakness Nor Dreams, But In Violence. It Is Only A Matter Of Knowing How To Give Vent To One's Rage; Whether One Only Wants To Wander Like Madmen Around Prisons, Or Whether One Wants To Overturn Them.