Still desiring, we live without hope.

Like the lark that soars in the air, first singing, then silent, content with the last sweetness that satiates it, such seemed to me that image, the imprint of the Eternal Pleasure.

And we came forth to contemplate the stars.

Go right on and listen as thou goest.

Hope not ever to see heaven. I come to lead you to the other shore; into the eternal darkness; into fire and ice.

When we encountered a band of souls coming along the barrier, and each was gazing at us in the evening people gaze at one another under the new moon

Nature is the art of God.