We Are Not At Peace With Others

The Secret Of My Full Identity Is Hidden In Him. He Alone Can Make Me Who I Am, Or Rather Who I Will Be When At Last I Fully Begin To Be. But Unless I Desire This Identity And Work To Find It With Him And In Him, The Work Will Never Be Done

The Logic Of The Poet - That Is, The Logic Of Language Or The Experience Itself - Develops The Way A Living Organism Grows: It Spreads Out Towards What It Loves, And Is Heliotropic, Like A Plant.

The Monk In Hiding Himself From The World Becomes Not Less Than Himself, Not Less Of A Person, But More Of A Person, More Truly And Perfectly Himself: For His Personality And Individuality Are Perfected In Their True Order, The Spiritual, Interior Order.

My Life Is ... A Mystery Which I Do Not Attempt To Really Understand, As Though 1 Were Led By The Hand In A Night Where I See Nothing, But Can Fully Depend On The Love And Protection Of Him Who Guides Me.

The World As Pure Object Is Something That Is Not There. It Is Not A Reality Outside Us For Which We Exist....it Is A Living And Self-creating Mystery Of Which I Am Myself A Part, To Which I Am Myself, My Own Unique Door.