Like sheaves of corn it gathers you unto itself. It threshes you to make you naked. It sifts you to free you from your husks. It grinds you to whiteness. It kneads you until you are pliant. And then it assigns you to its sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast. All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's Heart.

Much of your pain is self-chosen.

Let ignorance reproduce itself until it is weary of its own offspring.

Often times I have hated in self-defense; if I were stronger I would not have used such a weapon.

Beauty shall rise with the dawn from the east.

You progress not through what has been done, but reaching towards what has yet to be done.

I sit between my brother the mountain and my sister the sea. We three are one in loneliness, and the love that binds us together is deep and strong and strange.