To Praise Is To Praise How One

Concentrate On The Essence, Concentrate On The Light.

My Heart Rushes Into The Garden, Joyfully Tasting All The Delights. But Reason Frowns, Disapproving Of The Heart's Bad Manners.

We Alchemists Look For Talent That Can Heat Up And Change. Lukewarm Won't Do. Halfhearted Holding Back, Well-enough Getting By? Not Here.

You Are An Ocean In A Drop Of Dew, All The Universes In A Thin Sack Of Blood. What Are These Pleasures Then, These Joys, These Worlds That You Keep Reaching For, Hoping They Will Make You More Alive?

This That Is Tormented And Very Tired, Tortured With Restraints Like A Madman, This Heart.