Why hast thou made me born in this country, The inhabitant of which is satisfied with being a slave?

It is the mysterious touch of the ideal that animates and sustains the real, and through it alone we can discover and affirm the ideal.

Physiologically less violent and psychologically more suitable to a concrete type of mind.

Life is a struggle and not a matter of privilege. It is nothing but one's knowledge of the temporal and the spiritual world.

The Ego is partly free. partly determined, and reaches fuller freedom by approaching the Individual who is most free: God.

The alchemist of the West has turned stone into glass But my alchemy has transmuted glass into flint Pharaohs of today have stalked me in vain

Since love first made the breast an instrument Of fierce lamenting, by its flame my heart Was molten to a mirror, like a rose I pluck my breast apart, that I may hang This mirror in your sight.