Through Our Soul Is Our Contact With

If My Only Tool Is A Hammer, Then Every Problem Is A Nail.

Every Dawn Renews The Beginning, And To Behold The Earth Struggling Out Of The Formless Void, Out Of The Night, Is To Witness The Act Of Creation.

The Heathen Spirit Is Wingless. It Cannot Lift Itself To Heights From Which The Totality Of Being Is Visible, And It Therefore Loses Itself In Details.

Not The Power To Remember, But Its Very Opposite, The Power To Forget, Is A Necessary Condition Of Our Existence. If The Lore Of The Transmigration Of Souls Is A True One, Then These, Between Their Exchange Of Bodies, Must Pass Through The Sea Of Forgetfulness.

Through Our Soul Is Our Contact With Heaven.