The Cold Passion For Truth Hunts In

Civilization Is A Transient Sickness.

Shiva... Is The Only Hunter That Will Ever Catch The Wild Swan; The Prey She Will Take Last Is The Wild White Swan Of The Beauty Of Things. Then She Will Be Alone, Pure Destruction, Achieved And Supreme, Empty Darkness Under The Death-tent Wings. She Will Build A Nest Of The Swan's Bones And Hatch A New Brood, Hang New Heavens With New Birds, All Be Renewed.

I Believe That The Universe Is One Being, All Its Parts Are Different Expressions Of The Same Energy... Parts Of One Organic Whole.... (this Is Physics, I Believe, As Well As Religion.) The Parts Change And Pass, Or Die, People And Races And Rocks And Stars; None Of Them Seems To Me Important In Itself, But Only The Whole. This Whole Is In All Its Parts So Beautiful, And Is Felt By Me To Be So Intensely In Earnest, That I Am Compelled To Love It, And To Think Of It As Divine.

The Greatest Beauty Is Organic Wholeness, The Wholeness Of Life And Things, The Divine Beauty Of The Universe.

The Heads Of Strong Old Age Are Beautiful Beyond All Grace Of Youth.