As One Grows Weaker One Is Less

Pursuit And Possession Are Accompanied By States Of Consciousness So Wide Apart That They Can Never Be United.

You Stand On Dead Men's Legs. You've Never Had Any Of Your Own. You Couldn't Walk Alone Between Two Sunrises And Hustle The Meat For Your Belly

Stupid Women, And All Are Stupid, Think The First Winning Of The Man The Final Victory. Then They Settle Down And Grow Fat, And Stale, And Dead, And Heartbroken. Alas, They Are So Stupid. But You, Little Infant-woman With Your First Victory, You Must Make Your Love-life An Unending Chain Of Victories. Each Day You Must Win Your Man Again. And When You Have Won The Last Victory, When You Can Find No More To Win, Then Ends Love. Finis Is Written, And Your Man Wanders In Strange Gardens.

It Was The Worst Hurt He Had Ever Known.

The Great Task Demanded Of Man Is Reproduction. He Is Urged By Passion To Perform This Task. Passion, Working Through The Imagination, Produces Love. Passion Is The Impelling Factor, Imagination The Disturbing Factor; And The Disturbance Of Passion By Imagination Produces Love.