Moments snap together like magnets, forging
a chain of shackles. Why? I can trace them. I
can even, with time, pull them apart again. But
why at the start they ever magnetized at all -
just those particular moments of experience
and no others - I don't know. And nor does
anyone else. Yet if I don't know - if I can never
know that - then what am I doing here?…
“He'll be delivered from madness. What then? He'll feel himself acceptable! What then? Do you think feelings like his can be simply re-attached, like plasters? Stuck on to other objects we select? Look at him! ... My desire might be to make this boy an ardent husband - a caring citizen - a worshipper of abstract and unifying God. My achievement, however, is more likely to make a ghost!”
Look… to go through life and call it yours - your life - you first have to get your own pain. Pain that's unique to you. You can't just dip into the common bin and say 'That's enough!'…