If You Understand, It Is Not God.

I Entered (into My Inward Self) And Beheld With The Eye Of My Soul...the Light Unchangeable.

Love Is A Temporary Madness. It Erupts Like An Earthquake And Then Subsides. And When It Subsides You Have To Make A Decision. You Have To Work Out Whether Your Roots Have Become So Entwined Together That It Is Inconceivable That You Should Ever Part. Because This Is What Love Is. Love Is Not Breathlessness, It Is Not Excitement, It Is Not The Promulgation Of Promises Of Eternal Passion. That Is Just Being In Love Which Any Of Us Can Convince Ourselves We Are. Love Itself Is What Is Left Over When Being In Love Has Burned Away, And This Is Both An Art And A Fortunate Accident.

He Was Created Of A Mother Whom He Created. He Was Carried By Hands That He Formed. He Cried In The Manger In Wordless Infancy. He, The Word, Without Whom All Human Eloquence Is Mute.

What Thou Meanest By Seizing The Whole Earth; But Because I Do It With A Petty Ship, I Am Called A Robber, Whilst Thou Who Dost It With A Great Fleet Art Styled Emperor.

It Is No Advantage To Be Near The Light If The Eyes Are Closed.