Light May Earth's Crumbling Sand Be Laid

Glory Arrives Too Late When It Comes Only To One's Ashes

We Must Press On Then, In Haste; Not Simply Because Every Hour Brings Us Nearer To Death, But Because Even Before Then Our Powers Of Perception And Comprehension Begin To Deteriorate.

The Universal Nature Has No External Space; But The Wondrous Part Of Her Art Is That Though She Has Circumscribed Herself, Everything Which Is Within Her Which Appears To Decay And To Grow Old And To Be Useless She Changes Into Herself, And Again Makes Other New Things From These Very Same, So That She Requires Neither Substance From Without Nor Wants A Place Into Which She May Cast That Which Decays. She Is Content Then With Her Own Space, And Her Own Matter, And Her Own Art.

There Are Three Relations [between Thee And Other Things]: The One To The Body Which Surrounds Thee; The Second To The Divine Cause From Which All Things Come To All; And The Third To Those Who Live With Thee.

Begin - To Begin Is Half The Work, Let Half Still Remain; Again Begin This, And Thou Wilt Have Finished.