"True friends are never forgotten, they live within our hearts and souls.... forever , and always , dancing on our stage of memories."

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Does the human intellect, or "reason," really spring us free from our inherence in the depths of this wild proliferation of forms? Or on the contrary, is the human intellect rooted in, and secretly borne by, our forgotten contact with the multiple nonhuman shapes that surround us on every hand?

— David Abram