Things Never Pass Where You Think, Nor

Either It Is The Fold Of The Infinite, Or The Constant Folds [replis] Of Finitude Which Curve The Outside And Constitute The Inside.

You Never Walk Alone. Even The Devil Is The Lord Of Flies.

The Shadow Escapes From The Body Like An Animal We Had Been Sheltering.

My Eye, My Brain, Are Images, Parts Of My Body. How Could My Brain Contain Images Since It Is One Image Among Others?

The Technocrat Is The Natural Friend Of The Dictator—computers And Dictatorship; But The Revolutionary Lives In The Gap Which Separates Technical Progress From Social Totality, And Inscribed There His Dream Of Permanent Revolution. This Dream, Therefore, Is Itself Action, Reality, And An Effective Menace To All Established Order; It Renders Possible What It Dreams About.