Heaven...a Place Where Everything That Is Not

It Is Only By Loving A Thing That You Can Make It Yours.

What A Man Is Lies As Certainly Upon His Countenance As In His Heart, Though None Of His Acquaintances May Be Able To Read It. The Very Intercourse With Him May Have Rendered It More Difficult.

It Is The Heart That Is Not Sure Of Its God That Is Afraid To Laugh In His Presence.

This Is And Has Been The Father's Work From The Beginning-to Bring Us Into The Home Of His Heart.

The Region Belonging To The Pure Intellect Is Straitened: The Imagination Labours To Extend Its Territories, To Give It Room. She Sweeps Across The Boarders, Searching Out New Lands Into Which She May Guide Her Plodding Brother. The Imagination Is The Light Which Redeems From The Darkness For The Eyes Of The Understanding. Novalis Says, 'the Imagination Is The Stuff Of The Intellect' -affords, That Is, The Material Upon Which The Intellect Works.