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Quote by David Paul Kirkpatrick

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David Paul Kirkpatrick

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“The secret of existence is that, ontologically, mathematics is indistinguishable from light, and light is the basis of mind. Your mind is nothing other than a complete and consistent set of natural photons. Photons have no extension in space and time, meaning that they are outside space and time. They are in the frequency Singularity of immortal things rather than the spacetime world of mortal things. Light World is Soul World, and only math is relevant to this world. Science, the subject that deals with matter, has no application to Soul World. Photons have no mass, hence are not part of material existence. Photons have no extension, no dimensions, and do not experience space and time, all of which is exactly what we require of the immortal soul. When you switch on a light, light does not flood into spacetime. Rather, spacetime interacts with Soul World – spacetime flows through Soul World – producing the characteristic glow of light. Photons are the thoughts of the Cosmic Soul.”

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Book:The Mathematics of Angels
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“I stood in a round garden with high white walls. I felt that I had seen it before, but I couldn't remember where. Trees ringed the edge of the garden; all around me were great hedges of rosebushes, blossoming in cascades of crimson, white, and red-tipped gold flowers. Overflowing petals lay spattered on the ground beneath them. The light was a liquid, living thing that swirled and eddied through the leaves, rustling them like wind. In the corner of my eye, I thought it had shaped itself into figures that stood watching with still, perilous attention-- but when I looked, they were gone. Before me stood a dried bush, barely more than a skeleton, just a few brown leaves clinging to its twigs. On the topmost branch perched a brown-and-gray sparrow, its black eyes bright. Thank you for the crumbs, it said. My throat itched and stuck to itself as I swallowed. "You," I whispered. "You're the Lar of this house.”

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Book:Cruel Beauty
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“For a brief moment two young brothers appear immobile on this rubble. Their faces are serene and still. It is my blood. My brother untouched and unchanged, alive now in some distant place, full of hope and grace. All sweet with no bitter; all bright and no pale. The rough is made smooth; the dark clouds, a dream.”

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Book:An owl on the moon: A journal from the edge of darkness
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“All along the crystal cove the woven masks pace and pause from doorstep to doorstep. Shadows dance on the crest of the moon, as clouds, like dark bats, shift through the skies. The children in garments of glib disarray; the parents wear masks that won’t fade away. Olive and amber, sea and sky; salt and sand go winding by. One can sense the cries of hovering birds, the laughter of children, and frost-bitten air.”

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Book:An owl on the moon: A journal from the edge of darkness
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