The Truth Is, Indeed, That Love Is

Without You, Without Your Onslaughts, Without Your Uprootings Of Us, We Should Remain All Our Lives Inert, Stagnant, Puerile, Ignorant Both Of Ourselves And Of God. You Who Batter Us And Then Dress Our Wounds, You Who Resist Us And Yield To Us, You Who Wreck And Build, You Who Shackle And Liberate, The Sap Of Our Souls, The Hand Of God, The Flesh Of Christ: It Is You, Matter, That I Bless.

Psychogenesis Has Led To Man. Now It Effaces Itself, Relieved Or Absorbed By Another And A Higher Function-the Engendering And Subsequent Development Of The Mind, In One Word Noogenesis. When For The First Time In A Living Creature Instinct Perceived Itself In Its Own Mirror, The Whole World Took A Pace Forward.

If There Were No Internal Propensity To Unite, Even At A Prodigiously Rudimentary Level - Indeed In The Molecule Itself - It Would Be Physically Impossible For Love To Appear Higher Up, With Us, In Hominized Form... Driven By The Forces Of Love, The Fragments Of The World Seek Each Other So That The World May Come Into Being.

He That Will Believe Only What He Can Fully Comprehend Must Have A Long Head Or A Very Short Creed.

To Love Is To Approach Each Other Center To Center.