Made out of words
Some of you won't like this, but I sincerely believe it is the truth. Our intelligence consists of memory and imagination that arise from a thoroughly embodied mind. We remember things or make things up, then we utter something about it, or write it down, and then we call ourselves intelligent.
Our thoughts depend upon our bodies. If intelligent life exists on some other planet, we would not recognize it unless that life has a body similar to our own--an infinitesimally small probability.
Men Made Out of Words
What should we be without the sexual myth,
The human revery or poem of death?
Castratos of moon-mash--Life consists
Of propositions about life. The human
Revery is a solitude in which
We compose these propositions, torn by dreams,
By the terrible incantations of defeats
And by the fear that defeats and dreams are one.
The whole race is a poet that writes down
The eccentric propositions of its fate.