”Men say – We are men! We pull out tree stumps, we make paper bags, we think wise thoughts, we make lunch, we look around, we make a great effort to realize everything is the same. While the sand says, we are sand, we already know. And the sea says, we are always come and go, fall and splash. The empty blue sky of space says, all this comes back to me and goes again, and comes back again, and goes again, and I don’t care, it still belongs to me. The blue sky adds, don’t call me eternity, call me god if you like, all of you talkers are in paradise. The leaf is paradise. The tree stump is paradise. The paper bag is paradise, the leaf is paradise, the sand is paradise, the sea is paradise, the man is paradise, the fog is paradise. Can you imagine a man with marvelous insights like this can go mad within a month? Because you must admit all those talking paper bags and sands were telling the truth, but I remember seeing a mess of leaves suddenly go skittering in the wind and into the creek and floating rapidly down the creek and into the sea making feel a needles horror, and oh my god, we’re all being swept to sea no matter what we know, or say, or do. And a bird who is on a crooked branch is suddenly gone without my even hearing him.”