The dog that trots about finds a bone.
I am a hidden meaning made to defy. The grasp of words, and walk away With free will and destiny. As living, revolutionary clay.
The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins?
A rare experience of a moment at daybreak, when something in nature seems to reveal all consciousness, cannot be explained at noon. Yet it is part of the day’s unity.
It is death that goes down to the center of the earth, the great burial church the earth is, and then to the curved ends of the universe, as light is said to do.
There are worlds of experience beyond the world of the aggressive man, beyond history, , beyond science. The moods , qualities of nature , the revelations of great art are equally difficult to define; we can grasp them only in the depths of our perceptive spirit.
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