PROLOGUE. WHAT I HAVE LIVED FOR.

Description:
This is the prologue to the Autobiography of Bertrand Russell, written on 25 July 1956 in his own hand. The text follows:

PROLOGUE.
WHAT I HAVE LIVED FOR.

Three passions, simple but overwhelmingly strong, have governed my life: the longing for love, the search for knowledge, and unbearable pity for the suffering of mankind. These passions, like great winds, have blown me hither and thither, in a wayward course, over a deep ocean of anguish, reaching to the very verge of despair.

I have sought love, first, because it brings ecstasy — ecstasy so great that I would often have sacrificed all the rest of life for a few hours of this joy. I have sought it, next, because it relieves loneliness — that terrible loneliness in which one shivering consciousness looks over the rim of the world into the cold unfathomable lifeless abyss. I have sought it, finally, because in the union of love I have seen, in a mystic miniature, the prefiguring vision of the heaven that saints and poets have imagined. This is what I sought, and though it might seem too good for human life, this is what — at last — I have found.

With equal passion I have sought knowledge. I have wished to understand the hearts of men. I have wished to know why the stars shine. And I have tried to apprehend the Pythagorean power by which number holds sway above the flux. A little of this, but not much, I have achieved.

Love and knowledge, so far as they were possible, led upward toward the heavens. But always pity brought me back to earth. Echoes of cries of pain reverberate in my heart. Children in famine, victims tortured by oppressors, helpless old people a hated burden to their sons, and the whole world of loneliness, poverty, and pain make a mockery of what human life should be. I long to alleviate the evil, but I cannot, and I too suffer.

This has been my life. I have found it worth living, and would gladly live it again if the chance were offered me.

Archive Box Number: Black Display Binder

Date: 1956

 

Pennies, Falls, and Fountains

Death hits like sticks

cracking frozen flowers

like bricks

killing every hour.

 

A war-torn survivor

flashes back.

She’s called “a liar.”

feeling All Blacked-

 

Out: psychotic

I’m out of control!

not simply neurotic;

I have no soul.

 

to The Remainder

I no longer go.

Pennino, The Stranger,

religiously said, “No.”

 

He equates me with danger

a former Monsoon Fiance

 whose family derailed my fate;

SoulMates They Won’t Tolerate.

 

Dadi, Auntie, can you see me?

Eehab, Emily, are you energy?

Steve, Dave, are you with me?

Did You See Reality?

 

I hope I exist

for very good reason

’cause I feel no bliss

with any season.

 

“The only constant is change.”

My only constant is pain.

Pennies Cast upon Wishes,

into Fountains and Falls. Stitches.