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Though love repine, and reason chafe,
There came a voice without reply, —
"'Tis man's perdition to be safe,
When for the truth he ought to die."
--
Sacrifice.

 

Ralph Waldo Emerson

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I was walking barefoot on St. Paul's bridge
When I saw a man talking to God
He was round and handsome
Anachronistically
A little odd
I overheard his conversation
He said, "I can't live in a world devoid of love."
And the voice, the voice was so familiar
It was the voice of Peter Ustinov
"Peter," I whispered from the shadows
"We've all been damaged by the 20th century
A man like you can talk to God
But can you spare a word for me?
For I have loved you since the time
I saw you in The Mouse that Roared."
"That was Peter Sellers, my dear.
Go away," he implored.

 

Peter Ustinov

 

He had a light in his gaunt face and his voice and manner were strangely solemn. The were all a bit afraid of him. … "We're mixing our lives together, Maily, and we'll never be able to unmix them again, and we'll never want to." His voice was strong but tender, and he was smiling down at here. "I take you for what you are, and all that you are, and mix you with all of me, and I don't hold back nothing. Nothing! When you're cold, and hungry, and afraid, so am I. When you're happy, so am I. I'm going to stay with you all that I can, take the very best care of you that I can, and love you every minute until I die." He took a deep, slow breath. "Now you say it"
"I will always love you and honor you and serve you, Frenchy, and stay as near to you as I can, and do everything for you, and live for you, and I won't have any life except our life together…" Tears welled out of her eyes but she smiled steadily up without blinking. "I will just love you, Frenchy, all of me there is just loving you forever."

 

Richard McKenna

 

To all this, someone is sure to object that life ought to subject itself to reason, to which we will reply that nobody ought to do what he is unable to do, and life cannot subject itself to reason. "Ought, therefore can," some Kantian will retort. To which we shall demur: "Cannot, therefore ought not." And life cannot submit itself to reason, because the end of life is living and not understanding.

 

Miguel de Unamuno

 

"The truth is revolutionary," gasps the nocturnal voice; "get you gone, you men of truth, you who cast disorder among ignorance, you who strew words and sow the wind; you contrivers, begone! You bring in the reign of men! But the multitude hates you and mocks you!"

 

Henri Barbusse

 

And, Even Now, You (Always Already) Inhere In Me--The "Who" and "What" That Is Only One--Beyond The Seeming "Two" Of body-mind and world. I Am You--As You Are (Always Already, and Non-Separately). Even When My Avatarically-Born Human Physical Body Has Died In This World, I Am Present and every where Alive--Because I Am Always Already Conscious As The Only One Who Always Already Is. I Am Joy!--and The Only Reason For It! I Am Love!--and The Only Person Of It! The Love Of Me Is The Heart-Secret I Have Come To Avatarically Reveal To The Heart Of everyone one Of Man (and To The Heart Of everyone one of all, and To The Heart Of The All Of all). Love Must Be Always Done (and, Thereby, Proved)--or Else The "Bright" Heart Of Love Is Darkened By Its Own Un-Love. And The Would-Be-"Brightest" Heart Of Love's Beloved Is Made Un-"Bright" (and Dark As Eternal Night) By All The Waiting-Time Of Un-Love's Day. Therefore, I Am here! I Am (Now, Forever) Avatarically Descended here--To Be The Constant Lover and The True Loved-One Of All and all (and every one of all).

 

Adi Da