The Mind’s Residual. . . .

The Heavens open momentarily and close but the glimpses from the views linger and haunt one forever.

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The Self wills but the human spirit cannot be legislated.  Statistics are meant to sell beer.

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It is not the Mystery of Life which stunts man and does not beguile him to further thought.  It is the work involved.

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It is not easy for Wendy to become Tinkerbell in one fell swoop.  Not without destroying Peter Pan in that one fell swoop.

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The long face of gloom does not become the human at all in the face of so many small victories, but the constant smile bespeaks an empty head too.

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Those who claim good mental health have it only as long as they keep themselves wrapped in their illusions free from self examination.

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Considering the condition of the world and considering who we confine to psychiatric wards, the question should arise how does one define who is mad in a mad society?

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For one to see with eyes that wrench the closet full of tears open to view is to others an invasion of privacy

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Speak the heart and in like silence the heart will respond.  In matters of the heart, doubt not.

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Bless the elements of design for they are all inclusive.

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What seems like a tragedy in the absurd and obscure indeed is a well thought out and prescribed drama.

 

photo by John S. Hallissey

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