The Deeper Minds Of All Ages Have

I Love Him Who Scattereth Golden Words In Advance Of His Deeds, And Always Doeth More Than He Promiseth: For He Seeketh His Own Down-going.

We Believe That We Know Something About The Things Themselves When We Speak Of Trees, Colors, Snow, And Flowers; And Yet We Possess Nothing But Metaphors For Things - Metaphors Which Correspond In No Way To The Original Entities.

We Are Always In Our Own Company.

I Fear That, With Our Current Veneration For The Natural And The Real, We Have Arrived At The Opposite Pole To All Idealism, And Have Landed In The Region Of The Waxworks.

I Despise Mystics, They Fancy Themselves So Deep, When They Aren't Even Superficial.