Dinted dimpled wimpled-his mind wandered down echoing corridors of assonance and alliteration ever further and further from the point. He was enamoured with the beauty of words.

Pully, hauly, tug with a will; the gods wiggle waggle, but the sky stands still.

It's a little embarrassing that after 45 years of research & study, the best advice I can give people is to be a little kinder to each other.

To make this trivial world sublime, take half a gram of phanerothyme.

Good is that which makes for unity. Evil is that which makes for separateness.

There are confessable agonies, sufferings of which one can positively be proud. Of bereavement, of parting, of the sense of sin and the fear of death the poets have eloquently spoken. They command the world's sympathy. But there are also discreditable anguishes, no less excruciating than the others, but of which the sufferer dare not, cannot speak. The anguish of thwarted desire, for example.

Man's life on earth has only one end and purpose: to identify himself with his eternal Self and so to come to unitive knowledge of the Divine Ground.