The Barbarians Come Out At Night.

I Am Not The We Of Anyone

It Seemed To Me That All Things Were Possible On The Island, All Tyrannies And Cruelties, Though In Small; And If, In Despite Of What Was Possible, We Lived At Peace With Another, Surely This Was Proof That Certain Laws Unknown To Us Held Sway, Or Else That We Had Been Following The Promptings Of Our Hearts All This Time, And Our Hearts Had Not Betrayed Us.

My Response, A Dubious And Hesitant One, Is That It Has Been And May Continue To Be, In The Time That Is Left To Me, More Productive To Live Out The Question Than To Try To Answer It In Abstract Terms.

To Me, A Philosopher Who Says That The Distinction Between Human And Nonhuman Depends On Whether You Have A White Or A Black Skin, And A Philosopher Who Says That The Distinction Between Human And Nonhuman Depends On Whether Or Not You Know The Difference Between A Subject And A Predicate, Are More Alike Than They Are Unlike.

A Book Should Be An Axe To Chop Open The Frozen Sea Inside Us.