'Fire is the first and final mask of my God. We dance and weep between two enormous pyres.' Our thoughts and our bodies flash and glitter with reflected light. Between the two pyres I stand serenely, my brain unshaken amid the vertigo, and I say: 'Time is most short and space most narrow between these two pyres, the rhythm of this life is most sluggish, and I have no time, nor a place to dance in. I cannot wait.' Then all at once the rhythm of the earth becomes a vertigo, time disappears, the moment whirls, becomes eternity, and every point in space - insect or star or idea - turns into dance.

Joy! Joy! I did not know that all this world is so much part of me, that we are all one army, that windflowers and stars struggle to right and left of me and d…

This ultimate stage of our spiritual exercise is called Silence. Not because its contents are the ultimate inexpressible despair or the ultimate inexpressible …

The wife of my God is matter; they wrestle with each other, they laugh and weep, they cry out in the nuptial bed of flesh. They spawn and are dismembered. They…

Exhaust the little moment. Soon it dies. And be it gash or gold it will not come Again in this identical guise.

There are two ways of extending life: firstly by moving the two points 'born' and 'died' farther away from one another... The other method is to go more slowly…

Nothing is there to come, and nothing past, But an eternal now does always last.