“
I don't belong to any generation.
— The Family Reunion
I don't belong to any generation.
The man who returns will have to meet The boy who left.
Thus with most careful devotion Into perfect misunderstanding
All that I can hope to make you understand Cannot understand the unimportance of events.
This is what matters, but it is unspeakable. Because the particular has no language.
You isolate the single event Not my mind, that is diseased, but the world I have to live in.
Hold tight, hold tight, we must insist that the world is what we have always taken it to be.
I see more than this, more than I can tell you, More than there are words for. Which now and then emerge.
One thing you cannot know: Unrecognized by other men, though sometimes by each other.
If I tried to explain, you could never understand; Explaining would only make a worse misunderstanding...
It's all a delusion, That's wrong, a good that is misdirected.
Pain is the opposite of joy, Is the season of sacrifice
It is only when they see nothing Though one cannot speak with several voices at once.
To rest in your own suffering Is evasion of suffering. We must learn to suffer more.
The moment of sudden loathing All twined and tangled together, all are recorded.
There is nothing at all to be done about it, There is nothing to do about anything
Everything is true in a different sense, would have seemed the ruin.
Accident is design In a cloud of unknowing.
Harry has crossed the frontier And he cannot return. That is his privilege.
I've no gift of language, but I'm sure of what I mean: That accounts for what happens to them. You get a feeling of it.
He is every bit as sane as you or I, It is only that he has seen a great deal more than that.
The circle of our understanding We do not know much about thinking.
