We Are All Murderers And Prostitutes -

To Live In The Past Or In The Future May Be Less Satisfying Than To Live In The Present, But It Can Never Be As Disillusioning.

If I Hazard A Guess As To The Most Endemic, Prevalent Anxiety Among Human Beings-including Fear Of Death, Abandonment, Loneliness-nothing Is More Prevalent Than The Fear Of One Another.

The Individual In The Ordinary Circumstances Of Living May Feel More Unreal Than Real; In A Literal Sense, More Dead Than Alive; Precariously Differentiated From The Rest Of The World, So That His Identity And Autonomy Are Always In Question.... He May Not Possess An Over-riding Sense Of Personal Consistency Or Cohesiveness. He May Feel More Insubstantial Than Substantial, And Unable To Assume That The Stuff He Is Made Of Is Genuine, Good, Valuable. And He May Feel His Self As Partially Divorced From His Body.

The Fountain Has Not Played Itself Out, The Flame Still Shines, The River Still Flows, The Spring Still Bubbles Forth, The Light Has Not Faded. But Between Us And It, There Is A Veil Which Is More Like Fifty Feet Of Solid Concrete. Deus Absconditus. Or We Have Absconded.

The Statesmen Of The World Who Boast And Threaten That They Have Doomsday Weapons Are Far More Dangerous, And Far More Estranged From 'reality',than Many Of The People On Whom The Label 'psychotic' Is Affixed