> From: "david.bircumshaw"
>
> And each night, as long as I'm lucky, I go mad. I mean asleep. Into a
> universe where the dead resurrect, space breaks out of causality, and
> whole lifetime can elapse in a flutter of rapid eye movements and a few
> seconds on the clock.
Yes, that's the universe of the soul, of Freud's unconscious, of Plato's
Forms, of Jesus's Kingdom of Heaven, the world where there is no causality
but
only collocation, where everything that exists exists simultaneously, where
all
the bodies of all the persons who exist are one body of one person, where
there
is no change and therefore no time, and therefore no decay, and therefore no
death. You get proof of the soul every night.
====
When power leads man toward arrogance, poetry reminds him of his
limitations. When power narrows the areas of man's concern, poetry
reminds him of the richness and diversity of his existence. When power
corrupts, poetry cleanses.
-- John F. Kennedy
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