Look At It This Way: There Are Many Here Among Us For Whom The Life Force Is Best Represented By The Livid Twitching Of One Tortured Nerve, Or Even A Full-scale Anxiety Attack. I Do Not Subscribe To This Point Of View 100 Percent, But I Understand It, Have Lived It. Thus The Shriek, The Caterwaul, The Chainsaw Gnarlgnashing, The Yowl And The Whizz That Decapitates May Be Reheard By The Adventurous Or Emotionally Damaged As Mellifluous Bursts Of Unarguable Affirmation.
I Used To Tremble From Nerves So Badly That The Only Way I Could Hold My Head Steady Was To Lower My Chin Practically To My Chest And Look Up At Bogie. That Was The Beginning Of The Look.
No, I'm Afraid They Might Slip And Hit A Nerve And I'd End Up With One Side Of My Face Hanging Down Or Something. I'll Just Stick With This One For A While And Take My Chances. I'll Be Brave.
You Need A Certain Amount Of Nerve To Be A Writer, An Almost Physical Nerve, The Kind You Need To Walk A Log Across A River.
I Destroy Because For Me Everything That Proceeds From Reason Is Untrustworthy. I Believe Only In The Evidence Of What Stirs My Marrow, Not In The Evidence Of What Addresses Itself To My Reason. I Have Found Levels In The Realm Of The Nerve. I Now Feel Capable Of Evaluating The Evidence. There Is For Me An Evidence In The Realm Of Pure Flesh Which Has Nothing To Do With The Evidence Of Reason. The Eternal Conflict Between Reason And The Heart Is Decided In My Very Flesh, But In My Flesh Irrigated By Nerves.
We Must Not Listen To Those Who Advise Us 'being Men To Think Human Thoughts, And Being Mortal To Think Mortal Thoughts' But Must Put On Immortality As Much As Possible And Strain Every Nerve To Live According To That Best Part Of Us, Which, Being Small In Bulk, Yet Much More In Its Power And Honour Surpasses All Else.
