In Our Day There Are No Longer

Can The Knowledge Deriving From Reason Even Begin To Compare With Knowledge Perceptible By Sense?

There Exists A Black Kingdom Which The Eyes Of Man Avoid Because Its Landscape Fails Signally To Flatter Them. This Darkness, Which He Imagines He Can Dispense With In Describing The Light, Is Error With Its Unknown Characteristics. Error Is Certainty's Constant Companion. Error Is The Corollary Of Evidence. And Anything Said About Truth May Equally Well Be Said About Error: The Delusion Will Be No Greater.

There Are Strange Flowers Of Reason To Match Each Error Of The Senses. Admirable Gardens Of Absurd Beliefs, Forebodings, Obsessions And Frenzies. Unknown, Ever-changing Gods Take Shape There.

Your Imagination, My Dear Fellow, Is Worth More Than You Imagine.

Your Heart Like A Hawk-mouth In The Sun, Your Heart Like A Ship On An Atoll, Your Heart Like A Compass Needle Driven Mad By A Little Piece Of Lead, Like Washing Drying In The Wind, Like A Whining Of Horses, Like Seed Thrown To The Birds, Like An Evening Paper One Has Finished Reading! Your Heart Is A Charade That The Whole World Has Guessed.