There is no fire like lust, no sickness like hatred, no sorrow like separateness, no joy like peace.No disease is worse than greed, no suffering worse than selfish passion. Know this, and seek nirvana as the highest joy.
The grasses toss and shimmy. The horses nicker. Madame Manec says, almost whispering, Now that I think about it, child, I expect heaven is a lot like this.
Sometimes I’m in a mood like a Maths problem such as If you have pencils and apples, how many pancakes will fit on the roof? Purple, because aliens don’t wear hats
