a wonder that it must come up for air. It is suited to the water but it can't breathe there.
'I feel good,' it thinks, 'I want more life, and of a richer quality.'
In conversation I will be more honest with everyone, in this way endeavoring to open what's closed.
I will drive downward with air in my lungs and like a terrestrial creature, I will spy on an unfamiliar world: the world, in fact, to which I was perversely adapted.
I am like a fool.
In faith, I go about this way.
The person who would say on seeing me 'He is foolish': This is the person who knows how to assay value.
In my carriage and attitude is no value. Despair is the egg I lay on deadly beaches of volcano sand. No one can claim a greater need to discover what's true, what's good, what's beautiful.
In its undulations at sea the iguana is beautiful. It is a reptile whose life is to swim in the sea wave. I want to fill my whole heart with that which mysteriously trembles and that which dilates: these mysterious infinite quantities, by which all the lives of all souls are beckoned onward, ad plures ire.
How IGNORANT we are, but how HAPPY I am!
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