From Book Two:
Finally, the intelligence. Think of it this way: You are an old man. Stop allowing your mind to be a slave, to be jerked about by selfish impulses, to kick against fate and the present, and to mistrust the future.
My Commentary:
Seven thousand times.
Each time a tiny blister.
The soul callouses over.
The monkey face hardens.
The monkey face howls.
Why not just one time,
Embrace your own humanity,
And turn like a man?
Turn toward the consuming sun
And all her singing angels,
Like a small child that may become a man.
