Truth is within ourselves; it takes no rise
From outward things, what'ere you may believe.
There is an inmost centre in us all,
Where truth abides in fulness; and around,
Wall upon wall, the gross flesh hems it in,
This perfect, clear perception -- which is truth ...
and to KNOW,
Rather consists in opening out a way
Whence the imprisoned splendor may escape,
Than in effecting entry for a light
Supposed to be without.
~ from "Paracelsus" by Robert Browning with thanks to John Bryan
You wouldn't think It would be so easy To forget Who we really are Or that death is always at our shoulder Or that everything is alive Or that God is everywhere singing.