Reality Is The Apparent Absence Of Contradiction.

There Are Strange Flowers Of Reason To Match Each Error Of The Senses. Admirable Gardens Of Absurd Beliefs, Forebodings, Obsessions And Frenzies. Unknown, Ever-changing Gods Take Shape There.

Most People Have Never Known Solitude.... But There Are A Few Of The Other Kind Who Can Go Back To Their Rooms Anywhere And Close The Door On The Whole World, And Feel That They Need Never Emerge.

We Know That The Nature Of Genius Is To Provide Idiots With Ideas Twenty Years Later.

There Are Other Relations Besides Reality, Which The Mind Is Capable Of Grasping And Which Also Are Primary, Like Chance, Illusion, The Fantastic, The Dream.

The Whole Fauna Of Human Fantasies, Their Marine Vegetation, Drifts And Luxuriates In The Dimly Lit Zones Of Human Activity, As Though Plaiting Thick Tresses Of Darkness. Here, Too, Appear The Lighthouses Of The Mind, With Their Outward Resemblance To Less Pure Symbols. The Gateway To Mystery Swings Open At The Touch Of Human Weakness And We Have Entered The Realms Of Darkness. One False Step, One Slurred Syllable Together Reveal A Man's Thoughts.