December 20, 2009

Sexus



What we all hope in reaching for a book, is to meet a man of our own heart, to experience tragedies and delights which we ourselves lack the courage to invite, to dream dreams which will render life more hallucinating, perhaps also to discover a philosophy of life which will make us more adequate in meeting the trials and ordeals which beset us. To merely add to our store of knowledge or improve our culture, whatever that may mean, seems worthless to me.

Why then do we not give ourselves -- recklessly, abundantly, completely?

If we realized we were part of an endless process, that we had neither to lose or to gain, but only to live it out, would we behave as we do?


- Henry Miller

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