Excerpt, 3.
…then at a certain time in the afternoon if you allow for the wind and sunlight to fall upon your face in just the right manner, and if you’re eyes can close for just a moment longer than a blink, then you may be allowed to experience once again the exuberant plainness of your childhood. If this occurs, do not mistake it for sentimentality, but rather embrace it’s sublimity as without reason . And when you open your eyes hold tight on to what you just knew, and when injury comes chanting again, recall that fond fond memory of the sun, of the wind, of your childhood, of that transient interlude that forever suggests something other than the starkness of being that too is sublime in it’s lack of reason. This will be your castle; your revenge; your revolt…