It is our former selves that we especially loathe.
Identity, that spectator of what he calls himself,
That net and aggregate of energies in transient combination.
Almost everyone means well, and this is terrifying.
I’m not sure what normality is, but insisting that one is not at all normal must have something to do with it.
Our universe is wild, and our thought is tame.
We will tolerate anything but inconvenience.
Men rally most readily for what can be immediately done and never undone — a rescue, say, or a lynching.
To become a god, first stay out of sight.
It would have occurred to approximately no one in history to ask if what he was doing made him happy.
One must check the rise to cushion the fall.
To obliterate an experience, describe it.