If only God would one day come and take me to his house and give me warmth and a ection… Sometimes I think about this and weep with joy just because I can think about it. I gasp and wake up. But it was some mind of my species, it being perhaps too much to say of my race. And the part of me that realizes this is behind me, as if bent over my leaning self at the window, as if looking over my shoulder or even over my head to contemplate, with eyes more intimate than my own, the slow and now wavy rain which ligrees the grey and inclement air. In these considerations there may be an entire philosophy for someone with the strength to draw conclusions.
The best and most regal course is to abdicate.
I have wandered, Lord, over that sea. Some of them are mentioned rather often. Perhaps it will be discovered that what we call God, so obviously on a plane beyond logic and space-time reality, is one of our modes of existence, a sensation of ourselves in another dimension of being. To analyse is to be foreign. I su ered in me, with me, the aspirations of all eras, and every disquietude of every age walked with me to the whispering shore of the sea.