Were You not to grant me the grace during the night-watchers of drinking the silence, of diving into it, of being soaked in it, How should I know that inner silence, without which one can hear neither others nor You?
I am done with talk of death except as it
is a part of life, one side of a sphere
whose roundness would otherwise be
incomplete. In a letter van Gogh wrote,
"The earth had thought to be flat...
science has proved that the world is
round... they persist nowadays in
believing that life is flat and runs from
birth to death. However, life, too, is
probably round."
