Words Make Love With One Another.

At The Word Witch, We Imagine The Horrible Old Crones From Macbeth. But The Cruel Trials Witches Suffered Teach Us The Opposite. Many Perished Precisely Because They Were Young And Beautiful.

Trust In The Inexhaustible Character Of The Murmur.

Over And Above The Various Prejudices I Acknowledge, The Affinities I Feel, The Attractions I Succumb To, The Events Which Occur To Me And To Me Alone- Over And Above A Sum Of Movements I Am Conscious Of Making, Of Emotions I Alone Experience- I Strive, In Relation To Other Men, To Discover The Nature, If Not The Necessity, Of My Difference From Them. Is It Not Precisely To The Degree I Become Conscious Of This Difference That I Shall Recognize What I Alone Have Been Put On This Earth To Do, What Unique Message I Alone May Bear, So That I Alone Can Answer For Its Fate?

It Is The Whole Modern Concept Of Love Which Should Be Re-examined, Such As Is Commonly But Transparently Expressed In Phrases Like 'love At First Sight' And 'honeymoon'. All This Shoddy Terminology Is On Top Of That Tainted With The Most Reactionary Irony.

To See, To Hear, Means Nothing. To Recognize (or Not To Recognize) Means Everything. Between What I Do Recognize And What I Do Not Recognize There Stands Myself. And What I Do Not Recognize I Shall Continue Not To Recognize.