Embedded Files
[1]
We’re all born in an unpropitious place in the world and have only a short lifetime to locate home. Here’s my example.
[2]
The gods are many, and they give signs. There is magic.
[3]
The cosmos is flux and transcends the material. But even in that there are identities the cosmos needs and recognises. This relation is seen in the two land zones; where I am, and where I started. Also in the multiple lives of a single person.
[4]
There’s nothing in the infinitely adaptable human character to stop it wrecking itself in great and small ways. Time, materialism, monotheism and their languages. There’s a lousiness for one’s type of adaptation.
[5]
Love is hard, but very likely sometime or other.
[6]
England has been absolutely screwed up and sold, right through to the baby’s balls.
[7]
Life and its opposite co-exist in the same phenomena. We have seen this and are forever baffled. Love look turns to [loverface?].
[8]
The body of the man who is to be executed is a growing treasure. Dead, it is a diminished one.
[9]
I want to be alive on the day I die.
[10]
Some god ***. The gods have to be nameless.
[11]
Spent all his life playing for time. All of it.
[12]
An artist goes about. Gives true reports. Invents forms for things to flow into. Puddling. For other people’s thoughts. Enticer. Decoy marks.
[13]
The tenses of the language dispose of what’s past.
[14]
The population of the world replaces itself at a great rate. Already the 19th century is depopulated; the Austro-Hungarian Empire &c &c.
[15]
A rarefied wheedling puritanical dualism speaks over us.
[16]
The final judgment of life lasts long after death and can be kept. It needn’t be explicit.
[17]
Having made prosperity in the image of Hell, is the mansion a mansion in Hell or a Paradise? (Soma Avenue).
[18]
How public does an event have to be to be magical/sanctified? (Mr Fellows, Mr Broughton).
[19]
When what is not sexual brims and flows easily across into what is, the mystery of sex is greatest.
[20]
The task of learning the world from the people of a single street.
[21]
Ceremonies turn time over till it shows like the mercury in a thermometer.
[22]
The mercurial nature turns down and goes deep. Its depth is not single any more than its superficiality was.
[23]
Identity is what can be thrown away.
[24]
The old mouths, the dead mouths insist on speaking.
25]
The gods have to put saucers out for men to get them to be curious about what’s going on.
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