Every Thing Admonishes Us How Needlessly Long

I Hate The Giving Of The Hand Unless The Whole Man Accompanies It.

Power Ceases In The Instant Of Repose; It Resides In The Moment Of Transition From A Past To A New State, In The Shooting Of The Gulf, In The Darting To An Aim.

The Universe Is The Externisation Of The Soul. Wherever The Life Is, That Bursts Into Appearance Around It. Our Science Is Sensual, And Therefore Superficial. The Earth, And The Heavenly Bodies, Physics, And Chemistry, We Sensually Treat, As If They Were Self-existent; But These Are The Retinue Of That Being We Have.

In Private Places, Among Sordid Objects, An Act Of Truth Or Heroism Seems At Once To Draw To Itself The Sky As Its Temple, The Sun As Its Cradle. Nature Stretches Out Her Arms To Embrace Man, Only Let His Thoughts Be Of Equal Greatness.

Reality Is A Sliding Door.