Everyday we slaughter our finest impulses. That is why we get a heartache when we read those lines Written by the hand of a master And recognize them as our own, As the tender shoots we stifled because we lacked The faith to believe in our own powers, Our own criterion of truth and beauty. Every man when he gets quiet, When he becomes desperately honest with himself, Is capable of uttering profound truths. We all derive from the same source. There is no mystery about the origin of things. We are all part of creation, all kings, all poets, all musicians We have to open up to discover what is already there. ~Henry Miller, Sexus We are God's Perfect Creation Beautiful of all Worlds