With A Sudden Sharp Hot Stink Of

And That's How We Measure Out Our Real Respect For People—by The Degree Of Feeling They Can Register, The Voltage Of Life They Can Carry And Tolerate—and Enjoy. End Of Sermon. As Buddha Says: Live Like A Mighty River. And As The Old Greeks Said: Live As Though All Your Ancestors Were Living Again Through You.

The World's Decay Where The Wind's Hands Have Passed, And My Head, Worn Out With Love, At Rest In My Hands, And My Hands Full Of Dust.

You Solve It As You Get Older, When You Reach The Point Where You've Tasted So Much That You Can Somehow Sacrifice Certain Things More Easily, And You Have A More Tolerant View Of Things Like Possessiveness (your Own) And A Broader Acceptance Of The Pains And The Losses.

So We Found The End Of Our Journey. So We Stood, Alive In The River Of Light, Among The Creatures Of Light, Creatures Of Light.

And The Elephant Sings Deep In The Forest-maze About A Star Of Deathless And Painless Peace But No Astronomer Can Find Where It Is.