If the doors of perception were cleansed then everything would appear to man as it is: infinite.--William Blake, The Marriage of Heaven and Hell
...The world as it appears to me is my creation, and for it I must assume responsibility. Given, as the bricks out of which I can build a universe, is a chaotic kaleidoscope of colors, shapes, sounds, moods, hopes, fears, joys, pains, ideas, movements...Out of this anarchy, I organize a world for myself. I subdue the disordered shapelessness into a world by choosing one out of an infinity of possible structures.--Peter Koestenbaum, Existentialism: Philosophical Anthropology
To die before you’ve reached the sky is tragedy--the sky is always an inch away from our fingertips--no matter how high we may reach.
--Jeff A. Brown