One true sentence...  Poor old Hemingway.  It sounds like the thought of one trying to survive.  If he can write, then he can continue, the old circular process of surviving for writing, and also by writing.


Few knew how hard it was, carrying the entertainment of the dining room and the bar going for four straight night, then on top of that your friends and connections, on top of that the late night people, sitting there, expecting entertainment out of an exhausted creature, who then must turn to wine to bear the ending of the night.

Jesus, of course, loves them all.  But on the day off he is done, he cannot even get up out of bed, hardly to get a glass of water.    His mood is low.    His problem is one involved with being too kind, with the natural good mood that comes out of him when he is around people, oddly enough.

The expression of selflessness, the same as the Buddha's recognition of the illusion of self...

The Christian's sense that Jesus is always there to forgive, always there to save... deeply embedded, that there is always Jesus... omnipresent, omnipotent... just as the simplest and most pure reality...



Non duality.  "Father, why doest thou forsake me..."  is the same as  "I had it in me all along..."