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But this artistic perfection, this ruthless perfection that mercilessly excludes and degrades whatever is not equally consummate, making anything of middle rank a blasphemy - this very perfection has something cold and hard-hearted about it, something relentlessly and repulsively self-righteous.

Who would invite a stranger from abroad
unless he had the skills to help the people-
a prophet, or a doctor, or a builder,
or a poet who can sing and bring delight?
No one would ask a beggar; they bring only
their hunger.

The gods
devised and measured out this devastation,
to make a song for those in times to come.

“We’re living through a crisis of values and perspectives, of collective consciousness, as we did fifty years ago or eighty years ago, with the inconvenience that, to emerge from the earlier ones, the world already used up its best options. Now, there’s no language to replace the old, nor a credible mystery to fill the void.”

Perhaps the trap is having to work in order to live. In an evolved society, it maybe as barbarous and primitive as slavery seems to us for a person’s way of life to depend on his origins, his capabilities, and his luck. If all people are equal before the law, then they should have equal access to benefits, and there would be no need for the illusion of dignity in order to raise an army of slaves clothed as freedmen.

“What is faith? A license not to reflect? The trusting abolition of doubt, a bridge over experience, the transference of thought? Or, on the contrary, is it the limit of despair? Beyond my ignorance, wither have you directed this faith of which we never speak? To face your decision, to console yourself as to the result, or to trust that, at the last moment, everything is to be called off?"

“In principle, the pillars of civilization are differences among men. These differences have been many, but there are two that have never changed: one is the awareness of being ‘from here’ as opposed as ‘from elesewhere’, and the other is the awareness of being ‘one of these’ and not ‘one of those’. The destiny of these concepts is the destiny of humanity itself.

In no Paradise myself, I am impatient of all misery in others that is not mad. Thou should'st go mad, blacksmith; say, why dost thou not go mad? How can'st thou endure without being mad? Do the heavens yet hate thee, that thou can'st not go mad?

There is a wisdom that is woe; but there is a woe that is madness.

"So ignorant are most landsmen of some of the plainest and most palpable wonders of the world, that without some hints touching the plain facts, historical and otherwise, of the fishery, they might scout at Moby Dick as a monstrous fable, or still worse and more detestable, a hideous and intolerable allegory." Little did he know..

‘The Fin-Back whale is not gregarious. He seems a whale-hater, as some men are man-haters.’