The day you were born, a ladder was set up to help you escape this world.
Do you think I know what I'm doing? That for one breath or half-breath I belong to myself? As much as a pen knows what it's writing, or the ball can guess where it's going next.
Flow down and down in always widening rings of being.
Sell your cleverness and buy bewilderment.
Looking up gives light, although at first it makes you dizzy.
Till man destroys "self" he is no true friend of God.