Maybe There Is A Beast… Maybe It's

Before The Second World War I Believed In The Perfectibility Of Social Man; That A Correct Structure Of Society Would Produce Goodwill; And That Therefore You Could Remove All Social Ills By A Reorganisation Of Society. .... But After The War I Did Not Because I Was Unable To. I Had Discovered What One Man Could Do To Another... I Must Say That Anyone Who Moved Through Those Years Without Understanding That Man Produces Evil As A Bee Produces Honey, Must Have Been Blind Or Wrong In The Head...

Sleep Is When All The Unsorted Stuff Comes Flying Out As From A Dustbin Upset In A High Wind.

The World, That Understandable And Lawful World, Was Slipping Away.

I Suppose I'd Have To Say That My Favourite Author Is Homer. After Homer's Ilaid, I'd Name The Odyssey, And Then I'd Mention A Number Of Plays Of Euripides.

He Lost Himself In A Maze Of Thoughts That Were Rendered Vague By His Lack Of Words To Express Them. Frowning, He Tried Again.