“When light returns to its source, it takes nothing of what it has illuminated. It may have shone on a garbage dump, or a garden, or in the center of a human eye. No matter. It goes, and when it does, the open plain becomes passionately desolate, wanting it back.”
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“Man is certainly stark mad; he cannot make a worm, and yet he will be making gods by dozens.”
“If light is the first love of life, is not love a light to the heart?”
“For every light there was a shadow, for every dream, a nightmare.”
“Singing you home my creed is simple. My soul, a seeker of love.”