Without Playing With Fantasy, No Creative Work

I Know Only That I Was Born And Exist, And It Seems To Me That I Have Been Carried Along. I Exist On The Foundation Of Something I Do Not Know. In Spite Of All Uncertainties, I Feel A Solidity Underlying All Existence And A Continuity In My Mode Of Being.

All Art Intuitively Apprehends Coming Changes In The Collective Unconsciousness.

Nature Has No Use For The Plea That One 'did Not Know'.

I Am An Orphan, Alone: Nevertheless I Am Found Everywhere. I Am One, But Opposed To Myself. I Am Youth And Old Man At One And The Same Time. I Have Known Neither Father Nor Mother, Because I Have Had To Be Fetched Out Of The Deep Like A Fish, Or Fell Like A White Stone From Heaven. In Woods And Mountains I Roam, But I Am Hidden In The Innermost Soul Of Man. I Am Mortal For Everyone, Yet I Am Not Touched By The Cycle Of Aeons.

Somewhere There Was Once A Flower, A Stone, A Crystal, A Queen, A King, A Palace, A Lover And His Beloved, And This Was Long Ago, On An Island Somewhere In The Ocean 5,000 Years Ago. . . . Such Is Love, The Mystic Flower Of The Soul. This Is The Center, The Self.