For inasmuch as this flame is a flame of the Divine Life, it wounds the soul with the tenderness of the life of God; and so deeply ... does it wound it and fill it with tenderness that causes it to melt in love, so that there may be fulfilled in it that which came to pass in the Bride in the Song of Songs; she conceived such great tenderness that she melted away.
There is no dark like a night
replete with the mystery of death.
There is no truth like a fleeting wind.
There is no lover like a lonely tree.
There is no friend like a blade
of faithful grass.
There is no light like a solitary beam
from the sun.
There is no poem like an evolving earth
and no Poet like the great Grace
of Silence.