Do not play this piece fast It is never right to play Ragtime fast.… —SCOTT JOPLIN
Consciousness without world is impossible, just as there is no sight without the light to see by. Is that your objection,
Christ, what I wouldn't give to be something other than a human being.
Happiness consists of living in the dailyness of life and not knowing how happy you are.
هر شهری سرانجام به پایان میرسد و جادهای تهی آغاز میشود که پیمودن آن ایمان میطلبد
Where most people live, most of us, imagining it to be the real sunlit world when it is only a cave lit by the flickering fires of illusion.
Treason the only crime defined in the Constitution. Tyranny as under the Stuart and Tudor kings characterized by the elimination of political dissent under the laws of treason. Treason statutes which...
The story was clearly over, as in juggling when the ball you throw up finds the moment to come down, hesitates as if it might not, and then drops at the same speed of that celestial light. And life is...
The experience of experience is untransmittable.
Orthodox devotions that do not let in the light of modern knowledge are no more than a form of ancestor worship.
On the labour front in 1919 there was an unprecedented number of strikes involving many millions of workers. One of the lager strikes was mounted by the AF of L against the United States Steel Corpora...
Good morning, class. Good morning, red of face and scowl of mouth. Good morning, starched of shirt and waved of hair. This morning we will speak of consciousness. Where does it come from? What does it...
Emily supposed the modern world was fortunate in the progress of science. But she could not help but feel at this moment the impropriety of male invasiveness. She knew he was working to save this poor...
Communists have no respect for people, only for positions.
And so the ordinary unendurable torments we all experienced were indeed exceptional in the way they were absorbed in each heart.
Writing is an exploration. You start from nothing.
You have to know someone to want to kill him.
Writing is like driving at night in the fog. You can only see as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.
We had a joke, Langley and I: Someone dying asks if there is life after death. Yes, comes the answer, only not yours.
The poem is a cry of the unborn heart. Yes, because the poem perfectly embodies the world, there is no world without poem.