#58 – Hamburg writings

i. Every face is my face. Every face I have seen has impressed itself indelibly against my soul.

ii. I have stared death in the mouth. There on the barren heath I lie, looking at a                lightless sky.

iii. Leg rocking under the plate, leg rocking under the page.

iv. You let in too much externality. Stay within egoic cacoon.

v. Man’s endless malleability is matched only by his endless emptiness.

vi. Reality can be such a coarse thing. Glimpsed through our narrow chinks, and so          unsightly, it is amenable to the mind only by fictions, by mythology.

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