All things must come to the soul from its roots, from where it is planted.
You and I are all as much continuous with the physical universe as a wave is continuous with the ocean.
How is it possible that a being with such sensitive jewels as the eyes, such enchanted musical instruments as the ears, and such fabulous arabesque of nerves as the brain can experience itself anything less than a god.
Things are as they are. Looking out into it the universe at night, we make no comparisons between right and wrong stars, nor between well and badly arranged constellations.
So then, the relationship of self to other is the complete realization that loving yourself is impossible without loving everything defined as other than yourself.
But at any rate, the point is that God is what nobody admits to being, and everybody really is.
All experiences are preceded by mind, having mind as their master, created by mind.
I do not dispute with the world; rather it is the world that disputes with me.
Purity and impurity depend on oneself; no one can purify another.