Through endless night the earth whirls toward a creation unknown.
We must be holy without holiness. We must be whole, complete. That's being holy. Any other kind of holiness is false, a snare, and a delusion.
Our own physical body possesses a wisdom which we who inhabit the body lack. We give it orders which make no sense.
The concert is a polite form of self induced torture.
In every man's heart there is anchored a little schooner.
Certainly paradise, whatever, wherever it be, contains flaws. (Paradisical flaws, if you like.) If it did not, it would be incapable of drawing the hearts of men or angels.