To me in my childhood, elves and fairies of all sorts were very real things, and my dolls were as really children as I was myself a child.
The party has to be much more. It has to connect in a real way with rank-and-file members and be their voice.
I’m not a bit changed – not really. I’m only just pruned down and branched out. The real me – back here – is just the same.
I can only say that one’s individual situation is more real and important to oneself than the devastations of fates and empires especially when they do not vitally affect oneself.
The sacred, I shall say, is that which acts as your partner in the search for the highest and deepest things: the real, the true, the good, and the beautiful. The name I’d like to give to the kind of relationship that gives us a chance to find such things is a ‘circle of meaning.’
For me, the real earth is that chosen part of the universe, still almost universally dispersed and in course of gradual segregation, but which is little by little taking on body and form in Christ.
But though cognition is not an element of mental action, nor even in any real sense of the word an aspect of it, the distinction of cognition and conation has if properly defined a definite value.
The good poet sticks to his real loves, those within the realm of possibility. He never tries to hold hands with God or the human race.
It’s when we start working together that the real healing takes place… it’s when we start spilling our sweat, and not our blood.
Harlem was the main chance for the east end of New York, for eastsiders, as that real estate boom that took place in the 1890s – and it was a preposterous one where people bought and sold, and everything appreciated with each sale – and eventually, of course, the house of cards would crumble.