Lipton’s Journal/February 7, 1955/457
Perhaps the clue to all this, and the defense of the ultimate- conciliation is that man has not yet conquered nature and nature-substitute-which-is-abstract-society enough to become the lover and the taker. So, in the very horror of modern life may be a deep progression. We are not ready yet to take more, to fuck our mothers, we have to be frustrated in order to go on. That is why I hate the love I feel for people these days, and why when I become close to them distaste is behind it, I see myself as passive, loving, sticky—somewhere in me I sense that to love others and love myself is to deprive myself of further work. To go in and in and in, and never stop, as I am half-stopping today, by bothering to write what I think in the journal.