Sandro Botticelli Venus and Mars paintingSandro Botticelli Pallas and the Centaur paintingSandro Botticelli Madonna with the Child painting
concentration of my . Indeed, my spirit was seized: it was notI concentrating, but something concentrating upon me, taking me over, like the spasms of defecation or labor-pains. Leonid Andreich and Peter Greene -- their estates were rather the occasion than the object of this concentration, whose real substance was the fundamental contradictions of failure and passage. Truly now those paradoxes became paroxysms: I shut my eyes, swayed on Croaker's shoulders, trembled and sweated. All things converged: I understood what I had done to Dr. Eierkopf with my innocent question about paleoooontological priority. That circular device on my Assignment-sheet --
beginningless, endless, infinite equivalence -- constricted my reason like a torture-tool from the Age of Faith. Passagewas Failure, and Failure Passage; yet Passage was Passage, Failure Failure! Equally true, none was the Answer; the two were not different, neither were they the same; andtrue andfalse, andsame anddifferent -- unspeakable! Unnamable! Unimaginable! Surely my mind must crack!
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