What We Experience In Dreams - Assuming

All Truth Is Crooked, Time Itself Is A Circle

It Is Difficult To Live Among People Because Silence Is So Difficult.

God Is Dead. God Remains Dead. And We Have Killed Him. How Shall We Comfort Ourselves, The Murderers Of All Murderers? What Was Holiest And Mightiest Of All That The World Has Yet Owned Has Bled To Death Under Our Knives: Who Will Wipe This Blood Off Us? What Water Is There For Us To Clean Ourselves? What Festivals Of Atonement, What Sacred Games Shall We Have To Invent? Is Not The Greatness Of This Deed Too Great For Us? Must We Ourselves Not Become Gods Simply To Appear Worthy Of It?

Danger Alone Acquaints Us With Our Own Resources, Our Virtues, Our Armor And Weapons, Our Spirit, And Forces Us To Be Strong.

How Lovely It Is That There Are Words And Sounds. Are Not Words And Sounds Rainbows And Illusive Bridges Between Things Which Are Eternally Apart?