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Some thirty winters years back, new, in isolation struggling, behind the then ill kept Moscow hospital where Dostoyevsky’s father had worked, having been able to hear on the radio or at the conservatory this movement of music, allowed me to console my self as little else did.

And when the snow was already deep enough, ot falling fast and full, I could voice it sounds quite loud as I paced alone on the path and lane, back and forth…

https://youtu.be/3QJJRiJfLhE?si=tLEieb70W0oJW6mb

A man who, aside from his temporary position, is of true insignificance. 

There seems to be no political system which human nature cannot usurp and ruin in its intent of comity.

While the nights still bear shadows, monsters are long since unbelievable – whence, also, deeper human dormancy.

Nature being beneath Man, even a “supermoon” is inadequate.

Though most being also beneath Man, do not notice.

Those who ‘live, move, and have their being’ in their inherited dream.

And the end of all our travels will be to return home and find out how many people never left.

A person’s beliefs are more a revealing of their mentality than the opposite.

They live and suffer their individual lives inside the social, emotional and belief traditions in which they all mostly mutually live.

Rather than intellectual positions, most have emotional and personal ones.