The Body is the most indisputable materialization of class taste in that one's hairstyle, clothing, diet, and even gait function as signs within a larger system of social positions.

The Body is singular, the soul multiple.

A Body is a body with reflexes and anticipatory qualities, a body that is constantly in-becoming

The Body is a poop gun and eating is reloading.

Breath is the bridge which connects life to consciousness, which unites your body to your thoughts.

Breath is like an insect: its flight goes every which way, a butterfly-fragrance. Can you ever tell whose breath it is that catches you in a crowd?

Breath is circular, like the horizon on the open sea, a circle-fragrance. No one direction. It simply surrounds.

Breath is Spirit. The act of breathing is Living.

Fear is the fire that melts Icarian wings.

Fear is many-eyed.

Fear is the parent of cruelty.

Fear is the mother of superstition.

Habit is the invisible architecture of daily life.

Habit is that into which uncertainty disappears.

Habit is the second nature which destroys the first.

Habit is the ballast that chains the dog to his vomit.