Truth reveals itself in beauty.

I will sit in the pupil of your eyes and that will carry your sight into the heart of the things

In the mountain, stillness surges up to explore its own height In the lake, movement stands still to contemplate its own depth.

Beauty is simply reality seen with the eyes of love

Let this be my last word, that I trust in thy love.

O poor, unthinking human heart! Error will not go away, logic and reason are slow to penetrate.We cling with both arms to false hope, refusing to believe in the weightiest proofs against it, embracing it with all our strength. In the end it escapes, ripping our veins and draining our heart's blood; until, regaining consciousness, we rush to fall into snares of delusion all over again

Life is perpetually creative because it contains in itself that surplus which ever overflows the boundaries of the immediate time and space, restlessly pursuing its adventure of expression in the varied forms of self-realization.