How many great problems have gone unsolved because men didn’t know enough, or have enough faith in the creative process and in themselves, to let go for the whole mind to work at it?

Who’s to say that my light is better than your darkness? Who’s to say death is better than your darkness? Who am I to say?

Why am I always looking at life through a window?

Paradise Lost I could only remember it was about

No one had spoken of hope. The feeling was of living death – or worse, of never having been fully alive and knowing. Souls withered from the beginning, and doomed to stare into the time and space of every day.

As when men to keep from being swept overboard in the storm clutch at each other’s hands to resist being torn apart, so our bodies fused a link in the human chain that kept us from being swept into nothing.

from coming out of the light or from going into the light, which is true of the mind’s eye, quite as much as of the bodily eye;

So this is how a person can come to despise himself – knowing he’s doing the wrong thing and not being able to stop.

Shadows out of the past clutch at my legs and drag me down.