“In that year I was born again,and if a person was not conceived in the womb of melancholy, yielded by sorrow and put by love in the cradle of dreams, his life would remain as a white sheet in the book of being”
Whether a thinker is rebelliously praising “the East” for its spiritual richness and sexual opulence or, more conventionally, denigrating it for its mysticism and immortality, the tendency to take some vaguely articulated version of Western middle-class Christianity as the benchmark obscures real thought about both self and other.
Ideas are like fish. If you want to catch little fish, you can stay in the shallow water. But if you want to catch the big fish, you’ve got to go deeper. Down deep, the fish are more powerful and more pure.They’re huge and abstract. And they’re very beautiful