Man thrives where angels would die of ecstasy and where pigs would die of disgust
I've had it with these cheap sons of bitches who claim they love poetry but never buy a book.
The mature man lives quietly, does good privately, takes responsibility for his actions, treats others with friendliness and courtesy, finds mischief boring and avoids it. Without the hidden conspiracy of goodwill, society would not endure an hour.
Perhaps this is what really happens in life to most good men. They are not crucified. They simply pass through life and then die, and their passing influences just a few people to make them just a little happy.
The free, creative, loving people who shine so brightly in my memory of studios and coffee shops have become models for a huge section of the population. If they in turn can just stay alive in the face of power and terror, they may become the decisive section.
I've been around jazz and jazz musicians most of my life.
Mary, my little girl, was confirmed in a Buddhist temple. She saw the Life write up on Buddhism, with pictures of the ceremony, and she said she wanted to be confirmed there because she only liked Jesus as a kid. She was a little disappointed in him when he grew up.
You don't become a saint until you lead a good life whether in Tibet or Italy or America.
Marriage is the last sacrament available to modern man, and with the terrible destruction of interpersonal relations by capitalism and its war-making State, it is not very available, nor is it surely enduring. But then, vision does not come with guarantees.
Poetry has ceased to be a public art and has become, as Whitehead said of religion, What man does with his aloneness.
Towards the end of the night, as trucks rumbled In the streets, you stirred, cuddled to me, And spoke my name. Your voice was the voice Of a girl who had never known loss Of love, betrayal, mistrust, or lie.
Men who live like Casanova are seldom interested in themselves; their egocentricity does not give them time for egotism.
Ex-cons always say, You never know what makes the wheels go round until you've done time in the joint. This is even more true of psychiatric hospitals. It is a perfect mass hypostatization of society, the organization of the Social Lie.
You learn nothing if you carry with you a journalistic system of values, which is invented to save reporters from experience.
Harvey, Galileo, Copernicus do not seem occult to us, but they did so to their contemporaries, hierophants of the mysteries of Natural Law, revealers of the secrets of a New Order of the Ages. After all, the movement eventually came to be called the Age of Enlightenment.