A self is, by its very essence, a being with a past. One must look lengthwise backwards in the stream of time in order to see theself, or its shadow, now moving with the stream, now eddying in the currents from bank to bank of its channel, and now strenuously straining onwards in the pursuit of its chosen good.

Memory and hope constantly incite us to the extensions of the self which play so large a part in our daily life.

And just because God attains and wins and finds this uniqueness all our lives win in our union with him the individuality which is essential to their true meaning.

A crowd, whether it be a dangerous mob, or an amiably joyous gathering at a picnic is not a community. It has a mind, but no institutions, no organizations, no coherent unity, no history, no traditions.

Unless you can find some sort of LOYALTY, you cannot find unity and peace in your active living.

Thinking is like loving and dying. Each of us must do it for himself.

Only the more uncompromising of the mystics still seek for knowledge in a silent land of absolute intuition, where the intellect finally lays down its conceptual tools, and rests from its pragmatic labors, while its works do not follow it, but are simply forgotten, and are as if they never had been.