As Your Perspective Of The World Increases

As Your Perspective Of The World Increases Not Only Is The Pain It Inflicts On You Less But Also Its Meaning. Understanding The World Requires You To Take A Certain Distance From It.

As A Person, I'm Polite - I Want To Please.

We Live In The Best Of Worlds. But Still, It's Like We've Lost Something On The Way To Here: A Sense Of Life. I Can't Know For Sure, I Might Be The Only One Who's Lost It. Maybe Everybody Else Is Living The Now, Thinking They're Having It Well. Anyhow, That Motivated Me To Write The Books.

I Try To Write About Small Insignificant Things. I Try To Find Out If It’s Possible To Say Anything About Them. And I Almost Always Do If I Sit Down And Write About Something. There Is Something In That Thing That I Can Write About. It’s Very Much Like A Rehearsal. An Exercise, In A Way.

The Tree Was So Old, And Stood There So Alone, That His Childish Heart Had Been Filled With Compassion; If No One Else On The Farm Gave It A Thought, He Would At Least Do His Best To, Even Though He Suspected That His Child's Words And Child's Deeds Didn't Make Much Difference. It Had Stood There Before He Was Born, And Would Be Standing There After He Was Dead, But Perhaps, Even So, It Was Pleased That He Stroked Its Bark Every Time He Passed, And Sometimes, When He Was Sure He Wasn't Observed, Even Pressed His Cheek Against It.