It is only in marriage with the world that our ideals can bear fruit; divorced from it, they remain barren.
Man has always sacrificed truth to his vanity, comfort and advantage. He lives not by truth but by make-believe.
Every man contemplates an angel in his future self.
A sanctity hangs about the sources of our being, whether physical, social, or imaginary.
At the time of birth an ordering takes place. The awarenesses come together; they become specific until a person dies. At that point all those awarenesses, all that you have ever been or will ever be, go back again, into the great unknown.
When you look at a couch you don't really see the couch. You see the couch as perceived by a state of mind.
Everything has a nothingness. On the other side of physical reality, there is another world, and in that world, everything is something else.
There are no differences but differences of degree between different degrees of difference and no difference.
Often do the spirits stride on before the event; and in today already walks tomorrow.
A person is made up of awarenesses. All the awarenesses that have ever been our will ever be exist like barges floating in the ocean.
There is surely a piece of divinity in us, something was before the elements, and owes no homage unto the sun.
The ghost is the outward and visible signs of an inward fear.
A beautiful woman looking at her image in the mirror may very well believe the image is herself. An ugly woman knows it is not.
To have the detached eye of the occultist, to look outward, to not be so self-reflective and to learn to step through the various viewpoints of consciousness - that we call occultism - leads to freedom.
In mysticism, there's more of a sense of adventure, of camaraderie.
What I don't like today is, to put it coarsely, the phony Hasidism, the phony mysticism. Many students say, "Teach me mysticism." It's a joke.
Mystical power, as you know, has a whole different flavor to it. It's much more raucous at times; it's much more poignant at times. It involves more of the emotional body.
There is in every miracle a silent chiding of the world, and a tacit reprehension of them who require, or who need miracles.
In my tradition, one must wait until one has learned a lot of Bible and Talmud and the Prophets to handle mysticism. This isn't instant coffee. There is no instant mysticism.
Poetry is sane because it floats easily in an infinite sea; reason seeks to cross the infinite sea and so make it finite. The result is mental exhaustion. To accept everything is an exercise, to understand everything a strain.
We must select the illusion which appeals to our temperament, and embrace it with passion, if we want to be happy.
There is no beginning and there is no end. Nothing is final. There is no absolute. There is no highest point, nor is there a lowest point. These configurations are ideas. Ideas are primitive constructs, symbolic representations, reflections in a mirror.
You can think whatever you want, you can create all the labels you choose, but the universe just is. You can come to terms with it or not. If you don't come to terms with it, we say you live in illusion.
Science is a way to call the bluff of those who only pretend to knowledge. It is a bulwark against mysticism, against superstition, against religion misapplied to where it has no business being.
It has always been a happy thought to me that the creek runs on all night, new every minute, whether I wish it or know it or care, as a closed book on a shelf continues to whisper to itself its own inexhaustible tale. So many things have been shown so to me on these banks, so much light has illumined me by reflection here where the water comes down, that I can hardly believe that this grace never flags, that the pouring from ever-renewable sources is endless, impartial, and free.
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