Everything Is Good . . . As

As One Grows Weaker One Is Less Susceptible To Suffering. There Is Less Hurt Because There Is Less To Hurt.

The Proper Function Of Man Is To Live, Not To Exist. I Shall Not Waste My Days In Trying To Prolong Them. I Shall Use My Time.

The Trouble With Him Was That He Was Without Imagination. He Was Quick And Alert In The Things Of Life, But Only In The Things, And Not In The Significances. Fifty Degrees Below Zero Meant Eighty-odd Degrees Of Frost. Such Fact Impressed Him As Being Cold And Uncomfortable, And That Was All. It Did Not Lead Him To Meditate Upon His Frailty As A Creature Of Temperature, And Upon Man's Frailty In General, Able Only To Live Within Certain Narrow Limits Of Heat And Cold; And From There On It Did Not Lead Him To The Conjectural Field Of Immortality And Man's Place In The Universe.

But It Did Not All Happen In A Day, This Giving Over Of Himself, Body And Soul, To The Man-animals. He Could Not Immediately Forego His Wild Heritage And His Memories Of The Wild. There Were Days When He Crept To The Edge Of The Forest And Stood And Listened To Something Calling Him Far And Away.

I Did Not Begin When I Was Born, Nor When I Was Conceived. I Have Been Growing, Developing, Through Incalculable Myriads Of Millenniums... All My Previous Selves Have Their Voices, Echoes, Promptings In Me... Oh, Incalculable Times Again Shall I Be Born.