There are strange flowers of reason to match each error of the senses. >>
The whole fauna of human fantasies, their marine vegetation, drifts an >>
Light is meaningful only in relation to darkness, and truth presuppose >>
The whole fauna of human fantasies, their marine vegetation, drifts an >>
The pleasures of the imagination are as it were only drawings and mode >>
The dream of reason produces monsters. Imagination deserted by reason >>
The whole fauna of human fantasies, their marine vegetation, drifts and luxuriates in the dimly lit zones of human activity, as though plaiting thick tresses of darkness. Here, too, appear the lighthouses of the mind, with their outward resemblance to less pure symbols. The gateway to mystery swings open at the touch of human weakness and we have entered the realms of darkness. One false step, one slurred syllable together reveal a man's thoughts.