It is impossible to say just what I mean!

It is only in the world of objects that we have time and space and selves.

If you desire to drain to the dregs the fullest cup of scorn and hatred that a fellow human being can pour out for you, let a young mother hear you call dear baby 'it.'

The young feel tired at the end of an action, the old at the beginning.

The dripping blood our only drink, The bloody flesh our only food: In spite of which we like to think That we are sound, substantial flesh and blood Again, in spite of that, we call this Friday good.

We see the light but see not whence it comes. O Light Invisible, we glorify Thee!

...the still point in a turning world.