And When Your Soul Becometh Great, Then

Books And Drafts Mean Something Quite Different For Different Thinkers. One Collects In A Book The Lights He Was Able To Steal And Carry Home Swiftly Out Of The Rays Of Some Insight That Suddenly Dawned On Him, While Another Thinker Offers Us Nothing But Shadows - Images In Black And Grey Of What Had Built Up In His Soul The Day Before.

It Is With Artworks As It Is With Wine: It Is Much Better When We Do Not Need Either One, When We Stick With Water, And When Out Of Our Own Inner Fire, The Inner Sweetness Of Our Own Soul, We Turn The Water Over And Over Again Into Wine Ourselves.

The People We Keep Standing In The Anteroom Of Our Favor Either Start Fermenting Or Turn Sour.

He That Writeth In Blood And Proverbs Doth Not Want To Be Read, But Learnt By Heart.

"ego," Sayest Thou, And Art Proud Of That Word. But The Greater Thing - In Which Thou Art Unwilling To Believe - Is Thy Body With Its Big Sagacity; It Saith Not "ego," But Doeth It.