there is something dangerous about mirrors. ... What dynamite we handle when we lift a mirror or bend towards one! I seldom do.

there is something dangerous about mirrors. ... What dynamite we handle when we lift a mirror or bend towards one! I seldom do.

Today I walked on the lion-coloured hills with only cypresses for company, until the sunset caught me, turned the brush to copper set the clouds to one great roof of flame above the earth, so that I walk through fire, beneath fire, and all in beauty. Being alone I could not be alone, but felt (closer than flesh) the presence of those who once had burned in such transfigurations. My happiness ran through the centuries in one continual brightness. Looking down, I saw the earth beneath me like a rose petaled with mountains, fragrant with deep peace.

During much of my life, I was anxious to be what someone else wanted me to be. Now I have given up that struggle. I am what I am.

Governments may change, and opinions, and the very appearance of lands themselves, but the slowest thing to change is religion. What has once been associated with worship becomes holy in itself, and self-perpetuating, always built upon the foundation of mingled awe and attraction which the unknown has for the mind of man.

I saw the lovely arch Of rainbow span the sky, The gold sun burning As the rain swept by.

At a touch, he explodes like a snapdragon into loud purrs.