Our Inventions Mirror Our Secret Wishes.

Music Was Invented To Confirm Human Loneliness.

It Is Not Peace We Seek But Meaning.

Guilt Always Hurries Towards Its Complement, Punishment: Only There Does Its Satisfaction Lie.

It's Unthinkable Not To Love - You'd Have A Severe Nervous Breakdown. Or You'd Have To Be Philip Larkin.

Somewhere In The Heart Of Experience There Is An Order And A Coherence Which We Might Purprise If We Were Attentive Enough, Loving Enough, Or Patient Enough.