The fact of storytelling hints at a fundamental human unease, hints at human imperfection. Where there is perfection there is no story to tell.
In a world where no one listens, where no one seems to care, where hatred is greater than love, where hearts are hardened by vengeance and pride, where violence is preferable to peace, what else is there for him to do but heal the wounded, and bury the dead, in a war that could go on forever?
The antimony on their features was set on silvery fire by the intensity of the moon. And their bodies, solid and quivering and half-naked, were like ancient memories of a mystical time without boundaries when it was possible to enter the consciousness of a cornseed and foretell the harvest to come.
He thought about how the camera makes one fall in love with an image of oneself, and perpetuates a false reality.
When we’ve been travelling around I’ve often thought: Oh, this would be a good place to be, and that would be an excellent place to live. And yet, after I’ve seen everything I’ve decided that home, wherever that may be, is the place for feelings of peace. And if I can be at peace with myself then that is the most important thing. I think travelling teaches one that.
They made me think. Everything has to fight to live. Rats work very hard. If we are not careful they will inherit the earth.
The school-children were in their uniforms. A cock crowed repeatedly. Mum got her tray together. I was ready for school. Mum went down the street, swaying, moving a little sleepily, with one more burden added to her life. She was merely a detail in the poverty of our area.
The only power poor people have is their hunger.
That’s good. Life is full of riddles that only the dead can answer,” was Dad’s reply.
He danced there like an overturned centipede.
Where there is perfection there is no story to tell.
That you see a star in the night sky does not mean that the star sees you. The universe does not mirror consciousness. Consciousness mirrors the universe.
Is there anything more real than what we have created in our minds?
When we yearn, our yearning comes through from deep below. It comes from a deep remembering, from the forgotten dreams of our mingled ancestry. You are my yearning. And this is the night, long ago, when our stars first met. They are together now, in the heavens, shedding a beautiful radiance on this night. They are weaving enchantments for us so that we may step through the invisible mirror in the air and enter the fairy-tale we are meant to live, but which we forgot.
I kept looking forward the answer to things. I kept looking, and I never saw, and I became lost. I lost myself, lost my own reality.
Learning what you know is something you have to do every day and every moment.
And he remembered only because he didn’t want to have to go through it all over again, making all the mistakes of his confusion.
When you make sense of something, it tends to disappear. It is only mystery which keeps things alive.
As he walked though, listening to his happy footfalls, he felt the world telling him to stop looking, for then he would see beyond; to stop thinking, for then he would comprehend; to stop trying to make sense of things, for then he would find the truest grace.
Because you rejected my love, this is my curse on you. Refusing to love an illusion, you will have to love without illusion.
The thoughts converged there from all realms. Ad each thought had infinite possibilities. He could have dwelled in any single one of those magical thoughts for a lifetime and to realised its full potential.