Above all gifts we most should prize
The wisdom that makes others wise;
To others when ourselves are dust
We leave behind this sacred trust,
We may not know, when we are gone,
The good we shall on earth have done;
Enough in going is the thought
For once we acted as we ought.
“
Can an ars erotica be an epic or heroic art? Would it be but a minor art — flower arranging of tropical orchids, after the swords have been melted into the transistor circuitry that is programming the final epidemic and the unending nuclear winter? Where is there the master that could tell?
“
Alphonso Lingis | Foreign Bodies