The Ultimate, Most Holy Form Of Theory

When Shall I At Last Retire Into Solitude Alone, Without Companions, Without Joy And Without Sorrow, With Only The Sacred Certainty That All Is A Dream? When, In My Rags—without Desires—shall I Retire Contented Into The Mountains? When, Seeing That My Body Is Merely Sickness And Crime, Age And Death, Shall I—free, Fearless, And Blissful—retire To The Forest? When? When, Oh When?

The Doors Of Heaven And Hell Are Adjacent And Identical.

The Real Meaning Of Enlightenment Is To Gaze With Undimmed Eyes On All Darkness.

May He Be Cursed On Earth Who Gives His Trust To Virtue, That Bankrupt Crone Who Takes Our Life's Pure Gold And Gives But Bad Receipts For Payment In The Lower World. Ah, Passers-by That Stroll, Travelers That Come And Go, All That I Had, I Placed On Virtue, And Lost The Game!

We're Going To Start With Small, Easy Things; Then, Little By Little We Shall Try Our Hand At The Big Things. And After That, After We Finish The Big Things, We Shall Undertake The Impossible.