Life Is A Sexually Transmitted Disease And

A Lot Of The Time I'm In The Present, And I'm Thinking About The Past Or Scheming About The Future And Missing Every Present Moment, Instead Of Actually Partaking Of The Sacrament Of Every Present Moment.

Normal Men Have Killed Perhaps 100,000,000 Of Their Fellow Normal Men In The Last Fifty Years.

Madness Need Not Be All Breakdown. It May Also Be Break-through. It Is Potential Liberation And Renewal As Well As Enslavement And Existential Death.

From The Alienated Starting Point Of Our Pseudo-sanity, Everything Is Equivocal. Our Sanity Is Not "true" Sanity. Their Madness Is Not "true" Madness. The Madness Of Our Patients Is An Artifact Of The Destruction Wreaked On Them By Us, And By Them On Themselves.

The Individual In The Ordinary Circumstances Of Living May Feel More Unreal Than Real; In A Literal Sense, More Dead Than Alive; Precariously Differentiated From The Rest Of The World, So That His Identity And Autonomy Are Always In Question.... He May Not Possess An Over-riding Sense Of Personal Consistency Or Cohesiveness. He May Feel More Insubstantial Than Substantial, And Unable To Assume That The Stuff He Is Made Of Is Genuine, Good, Valuable. And He May Feel His Self As Partially Divorced From His Body.