Self-love is more cunning than the most cunning man in the world.
It gets like this in Liverpool when you're on the ferry and the sun reflects off the Mersey.
Fitzgerald never got rid of anything; the ghosts of his adolescence, the failures of his youth, the doubts of his maturity plagued him to the end. He was supremely a part of the world he described, so much a part that he made himself its king and then, when he saw it begin to crumble, he crumbled with it and led it to death.
Long only for what you have.
Only very coarse persons wanted wars.
There are clearly times when quieting down and bringing our energy back into ourselves is a step toward inner peace. Yet the most powerful life is not one in which we bring ourselves back to our center when we have spun away from it, but rather one in which we seek to live from that center at all times.
I think that with the Internet, it has given a lot of people the opportunity to get themselves out there to the masses. But it's easy to group everyone that's on the Internet together. I try to cross and jump around between genres and different styles, kind of find my own niche.