We are punished for our refusals. Every impulse that we strive to strangle broods in the mind and poisons us.
Every impulse we strangle will only poison us.
Our passionate preoccupation with the sky, the stars, and a God somewhere in outer space is a homing impulse. We are drawn back to where we came from.
One can never consent to creep when one feels an impulse to soar.
All night long I’ve had the most terrible impulse to do something.