To Confront A Person With Their Own

How Else Could It Have Occurred To Man To Divide The Cosmos, On The Analogy Of Day And Night, Summer And Winter, Into A Bright Day-world And A Dark Night-world Peopled With Fabulous Monsters, Unless He Had The Prototype Of Such A Division In Himself, In The Polarity Between The Conscious And The Invisible And Unknowable Unconscious?

The Experience Of The Self Is Always A Defeat For The Ego.

Deep Down, Below The Surface Of The Average Man's Conscience, He Hears A Voice Whispering, "there Is Something Not Right," No Matter How Much His Rightness Is Supported By Public Opinion Or Moral Code.

Liverpool Is The Pool Of Life, It Makes To Live.

From The Middle Of Life Onward, Only He Remains Vitally Alive Who Is Ready To Die With Life.