No Wide Road Leads To God.

God Changes Appearances Every Second. Blessed Is The Man Who Can Recognize Him In All His Disguises. One Moment He Is A Glass Of Fresh Water, The Next, Your Son Bouncing On Your Knees Or An Enchanting Woman, Or Perhaps Merely A Morning Walk.

Once More There Sounded Within Me The Terrible Warning That There Is Only One Life For All Men, That There Is Only One Life For All Men, That There Is No Other And That All That Can Be Enjoyed Must Be Enjoyed Here. In Eternity No Other Chance Will Be Given To Us.

Happy Is The Man, I Thought, Who, Before Dying, Has The Good Fortune To Sail The Aegean Sea.

I Should Learn To Run, To Wrestle, To Swim, To Ride Horses, To Row, To Drive A Car, To Fire A Rifle. I Should Fill My Soul With Flesh. I Should Fill My Flesh With Soul. In Fact, I Should Reconcile At Last Within Me The Two Internal Antagonists.

God Is Action, Complete With Mistakes, Fumblings, Persistence, Agony. God Is Not The Power That Has Found Eternal Equilibrium, But The Power That Is Forever Breaking Every Equilibrium, Forever Searching For A Higher One.