It Is Better To Rust Out Than

The Thing That Is Incredible Is Life Itself. Why Should We Be Here In This Sun-illuminated Universe? Why Should There Be Green Earth Under Our Feet?

I (god) Will Leave Man To Make The Fateful Guess, Will Leave Him Torn Between The No And Yes, Leave Him Unresting Till He Rests In Me, Drawn Upward By The Choice That Makes Him Free, Leave Him In Tragic Loneliness To Choose, With All In Life To Win Or All To Lose.

At The Heart Of The Cyclone Tearing The Sky And Flinging The Cloud And The Towers By, Is A Place Of Central Calm: So Here In The Roar Of Mortal Things, I Have A Place Where My Spirit Sings, In The Hollow Of God's Palm.

That In The Human Plan Nothing Is Worth The Making If It Does Not Make The Man.

Only The Soul That Knows The Mighty Grief Can Know The Mighty Rapture. Sorrows Come To Stretch Out Spaces In The Heart For Joy.