The wheel of the Good Law moves swiftly on. It grinds by night and day. The worthless husks it drives from out the golden grain, the refuse from the flour. The hand of fate guides the wheel; the revolutions mark the beatings of the heart of manifestation.

Hast thou attuned thyself to the suffering of humanity, O candidate for light?

We live in an age of prejudice, dissimulation and paradox, wherein, like dry leaves caught in a whirlpool, some of us are tossed helpless . . . ever struggling between our honest convictions and fear of that cruelest of tyrants -- PUBLIC OPINION.

Spiritualism is but a baby now, an unwelcome stranger, whom public opinion, like an unnatural foster mother, tries to crush out of existence.

If coming events are said to cast their shadows before, past events cannot fall to leave their impress behind them.

Theosophy, on earth, is like the white ray of the spectrum, and each religion only one of the seven colours.

There is no [...] higher than the truth.