The Task Is Not So Much To

--why Are We Fighting Them? --they're Mad. We're Sane. --how Do We Know? --that We're Sane? --yes. --am I Sane? --to All Appearances. --and You, Do You Consider Yourself Sane? --i Do. --well, There You Have It. --but Don't They Also Consider Themselves Sane? --i Think They Know. Deep Down. That They're Not Sane. --how Must That Make Them Feel? --terrible, I Should Think. They Must Fight Ever More Fiercely, In Order To Deny What They Know To Be True. That They Are Not Sane.

He Is Mad About Being Small When You Were Big, But No, That's Not It, He Is Mad About Being Helpless When You Were Powerful, But No, Not That Either, He Is Mad About Being Contingent When You Were Necessary, Not Quite It... He Is Insane Because When He Loved You, You Didn't Notice.

I Keep Wondering If, Say, There Is Intelligent Life On Other Planets, The Scientists Argue That Something Like Two Percent Of The Other Planets Have The Conditions, The Physical Conditions, To Support Life In The Way It Happened Here, Did Christ Visit Each And Every Planet, Go Through The Same Routine, The Agony In The Garden, The Crucifixion, And So On.

There Is No Moment That Exceeds In Beauty That Moment When One Looks At A Woman And Finds That She Is Looking At You In The Same Way That You Are Looking At Her. The Moment In Which She Bestows That Look That Says, "proceed With Your Evil Plan, Sumbitch.

The Important Thing Is The Educational Experience Itself — How To Survive It.