Life is a travelling to the edge of knowledge, then a leap taken.
Love is the hastening gravitation of spirit towards spirit, and body towards body, in the joy of creation.
This is the very worst wickedness, that we refuse to acknowledge the passionate evil that is in us. This makes us secret and rotten.
I prefer unlucky things. Luck is vulgar. Who wants what luck would bring? I don't.
Towns oftener swamp one than carry one out onto the big ocean of life.
Mankind has got to get back to the rhythm of the cosmos.