The Whole Is The False.

There Is No Love That Is Not An Echo.

The Very People Who Burst With Proofs Of Exuberant Vitality Could Easily Be Taken For Prepared Corpses, From Whom The News Of Their Not-quite-successful Decease Has Been Withheld For Reasons Of Population Policy. Underlying The Prevalent Health Is Death. All The Movements Of Health Resemble The Reflex-movements Of Beings Whose Hearts Have Stopped Beating.

Freud Made The Discovery- Quite Genuinely, Simply Through Working On His Own Material- That The More Deeply One Explores The Phenomena Of Human Individuation, The More Unreservedly One Grasps The Individual As A Self-contained And Dynamic Entity, The Closer One Draws To That In The Individual Which Is Really No Longer Individual.

The New Human Type Cannot Be Properly Understood Without Awareness Of What He Is Continuously Exposed To From The World Of Things About Him, Even In His Most Secret Innervations.

The Man For Whom Time Stretches Out Painfully Is One Waiting In Vain, Disappointed At Not Finding Tomorrow Already Continuing Yesterday.