"Austin O Spare - The Focus Of Life" - читать интересную книгу автора (Spare Austin Osman)

Lo this day salvation has come. My 'I and Self' has agreed in belief.
I would ask of thee thy suppressed self. Is it not the new thing desired? No man shall follow me. I am not thy preservation. Thou art the way. Assuredly, thy virtue is to be equally different.
Thy complaint is the calamity: The hypocrite is always at prayer. Dost thou suffer? Thou shalt again suffer, till thine I does not fear its body. Rather seek and increase by thy temptations, it is but the way to intelligence.
Transgression is wiser than prayer: Make this thy obsession. Thank only thyself and be silent.
The coward's way is religion. There is no fear-but righteousness.
Let this be thy one excuse, I pleasured myself.
Brave laughter-not faith. Rewarded are the courageous for they shall pass!
Thine I is envious of satisfaction. Yet none devotes himself to reality.
Whoever learneth much, unlearneth all sentimental and small desires. This is the new atavism I would teach: Demand of God equality-usurp! The mighty are righteous for their morals are arbitrary.
Live beyond thought in courageous originality.
These hopes and fears are somnism, there is little reality. Repent not, but strive to sin in thine own way, light-heartedly: without self-reproach. One becomes the thing itself or its creature.
Judge without mercy, all this weakness is thy self-abuse.
Experience is by contract. The great experience: Seduce thyself to pleasure.
There is only one sin-suffering.
There is only on virtue-the will to self-pleasure.
The greatest- the greatest non-morally.
The origin of morality is obedience to the earliest form of government. In youth, all things have to obey their parents.
O, my aged IKKAH, loose this the navel cord, that my youth may pass! The most important outcome of human effort is that we learn to become righteous thieves: To possess more easily of others for self-advantage. In this incessant glorification of work, I discover a great human secret: "Do thou the work-I my pleasure." As above so below, this is never sufficiently realized.
. . . Remorse? Nay, do unto thyself all things, fearlessly.
Finality is reached when ye have learned to digest everything.
What is all man-slaughter but what ye have done unto yourself?
Only where there is necessity is ther death. Dispense with all 'means' to an end.
There is nothing higher than joyous sensation.
Eternal Self! these millions of bodies I have outworn!
Oh, sinister ecstasy. I am thy vicious self pleasure that destroyeth all things.
Distrust thy teacher, for 'divine truth' has prevented better men from wisdom. In such revelation there is no suggestion.
Do thy utmost unto others: But be surely what thou wilt: and keep thy belief free of morality.
Observe thyself by sensation: thus know the finer perturbations and vibrations.
This much shalt thou learn: To love all men, for there will be compulsion.
Serve no man, hell is democracy.
Think not the words 'I wish,' say not the words 'I will.'
Respect thy body: it will again become thy parents.
Fear nothing,-strike at the highest.
Ennui is fear: Death is failure. Go where thou fearest most.
How canst thou become great among men? . . . Cast thyself forth! Of this event, genius is the successful effort of memory.
Break thy commandments, be lawless unto all dogma.
Revolt is the fertiliser of the new faculties.
Knowledge and all evil wars react from previous existences that are now fragmentary to the body and operate as disembodied astrals. The more distant the creature that govern our functions the more unusual is our manifestation of phenomena, which are but living their physical peculiarities by a mechanism. Retrogress to the point where knowledge ceases, in that law becomes its own spontaneity and is freedom.
If my word has spoken unto fragments, pushed aside marriage beds, and brushed out old grave chambers; if I ever rejoiced in calumnies, if I have murdered, lied, adulterated, robbed; if like the weather I spit on all things-is it because I remember, that of my belief-there is a volition that willeth opposite?
For I love thee, O Self!
For I love thee, O mine I!
Oh! how could I fail to be agog for originality in self-love?
Never yet has procreation with another been satisfactory.
If I have wandered into marriage with anything-there has been a conspiracy of accidents: within and without.
And what willeth to self-pleasure- this out-breather of good taste, this conversion to ungodliness?
I know thee! . . . thou heavenly necessity that compelleth chance to supersede the sexualities!
For mine I is worthy of the Self: and alone knows what is righteousness.
Verily, I tell you good and evil are one and the same.
It is but the distance thou hast reached.
Will unto self-love - the unexhausted, the procreative of ecstasy!