she looked like something chiseled from a memory of a lost and long forgotten god.

It was the other way around, the forbidden was interested in her.

I continue to live inside a dichotomy: what was and what shall be. The pain in my skull is me trying to mesh the two.

Away and away the aeroplane shot, till it was nothing but a bright spark; an aspiration; a concentration; a symbol (so it seemed to Mr. Bentley, vigorously rolling his strip of turf at Greenwich) of man's soul; of his determination, thought Mr. Bentley, sweeping round the cedar tree, to get outside his body, beyond his house, by means of thought, Einstein, speculation, mathematics, the Mendelian theory––away the aeroplane shot.

Needing to express what it’s like here.... / Trying to digest the incoming stream .... / And dream it all over again.

be the calm eye of the storm where nothing phases you, focus on your centre to remain balanced, let your life flow like a stream of wind