We must travel in the direction of our fear.
Man, your head is haunted; you have wheels in your head! You imagine great things, and depict to yourself a whole world of gods that has an existence for you, a spirit-realm to which you suppose yourself to be called, an ideal that beckons to you. You have a fixed idea!
Protestantism has actually put a man in the position of a country governed by secret police. The spy and eavesdropper, ‘conscience,’ watches over every motion of the mind, and all thought and action is for it a ‘matter of conscience,’ i.e. police business.
From the moment when he catches sight of the light of the world, a man seeks to find out himself and get hold of himself out of its confusion, in which he, with everything else, is tossed about in motley mixture.
Crimes spring from fixed ideas.
The moral man is necessarily narrow in that he knows no other enemy than the ‘immoral’ man. ‘He who is not moral is immoral!’ and accordingly reprobate, despicable, etc. Therefore, the moral man can never comprehend the egoist.
Man has not really vanquished Shamanism and its spooks till he possesses the strength to lay aside not only the belief in ghosts or in spirits, but also the belief in the spirit.
The artist is extremely lucky who is presented with the worst possible ordeal which will not actually kill him. At that point, he’s in business.
Life, friends, is boring. We must not say so.
I didn’t want to be like Yeats; I wanted to be Yeats.