Nest etter det nødvendige å leve og reprodusere, ønsker mennesket mer enn noe annet å etterlate seg noe om seg selv, kanskje et bevis på at han virkelig har eksistert. Dette beviset setter han etter seg i et tre eller på stein, eller gjennom påvirking av andre. Denne dype trangen finner vi i alle- fra gutten som skriver grove ord på veggen i det offentlige toalettet, til Buddha som etset sitt bilde inn i sjelen på en hel rase. Livet er så uvirkelig. Jeg tror at vi tviler alvorlig på om vi eksisterer, og derfor går vi rundt og forsøker å bevise at vi gjør det.

Their eyes met, and they stared together at each other, alone in space. With an effort she glanced down at the table. "You always looks so cool", she repeated. She had told him that she loved him, and Tom Buchanan saw. He was astounded. His mouth opened a little and he looked at Gatsby and then back at Daisy as if he just recognized her as someone he knew a long time ago.

The touch of you, or my imagined touching, seems both repellent and oddly succulent. It stings. These feelings stings. My eyes are always ready for you. They want to grapple and lay you down in fluffy white sheets of linen, safe, in your arms, strong arms. I would take you to Arizona and have you meet my mother even. The seeds of love have taken hold and if we won't burn together, I'll burn alone.

Cultivate the thought that everyone you meet- in all circumstances- is fulfilling all your wishes. This is the gate to true happiness.