Just One Second

We live through myriads of seconds, yet it is always one, just one, that casts our entire inner world into turmoil, the second when (as Stendhal has described it) the internal inflorescence, already ...

No One Can Help It

But he could not help it. No one can help it. One is a realist. One has put up with it all ever since childhood; one has had the courage to look it full in the eye, possibly courage enough to look it...

The Human Pattern

Behind the cotton wool is hidden a pattern; that we � I mean all human beings � are connected with this; that the whole world is a work of art; that we are parts of the work of art. Hamlet or a Beeth...