'I have seen the Bird of Paradise. She has spread herself out before me, and I shall never be the same again.'
'Around us are pseudo-events, to which we adjust with a false consciousness adapted to see these events as true and real, and even as beautiful'
‘There is really nothing more to say when we come back to that beginning of all beginnings that is nothing at all. Only when you begin to lose that Alpha and Omega do you want to start to talk and to write, and then there is no end to it, words, words, words. At best and most they are perhaps in memoriam, evocations, conjurations, incantations, emanations, shimmering, iridescent flares in the sky of darkness, a just feasible tact, indiscretions, perhaps forgivable....
City lights at night, from the air, receding, like these words, atoms each containing its own world and every other world. Each a fuse to set you off.... If I could turn you on, if I could drive you out of your wretched mind, if I could tell you I would let you know’
‘The Bird of Paradise’, R D Laing (1967)
"Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent" Ludwig Wittgenstein, 'Tractacus Logico-Philosophicus" (1922)