I Believe That Icarus Was Not Failing

Everyone Forgets Icarus Also Flew.

I Ask Myself What Is The Sound Of Women? What Is The Word For That Still Thing I Have Hunted Inside Them For So Long? Deep Inside The Avalanche Of Joy, The Thing Deeper In The Dark, And Deeper Still In The Bed Where We Are Lost. Deeper, Deeper Down Where A Woman's Heart Is Holding Its Breath, Where Something Very Far Away In That Body Is Becoming Something We Don't Have A Name For.

I Had Lived All Of My Youthful Dreams, But I Couldn't Think Of Many Adult Ones. I Finally Realized That We Don't Have Many Dreams For Adults Because, Historically, People Have Always Died Much Younger Than They Do Today.

Being Alive Is So Extraordinary I Don’t Know Why People Limit It To Riches, Pride, Security—all Of Those Things Life Is Built On. People Miss So Much Because They Want Money And Comfort And Pride, A House And A Job To Pay For The House. And They Have To Get A Car. You Can’t See Anything From A Car. It’s Moving Too Fast. People Take Vacations. That’s Their Reward—the Vacation. Why Not The Life?

We Must Risk Delight. We Can Do Without Pleasure, But Not Delight. Not Enjoyment. We Must Have The Stubbornness To Accept Our Gladness In The Ruthless Furnace Of This World. To Make Injustice The Only Measure Of Our Attention Is To Praise The Devil.