When the sun rises, do you not see a round disc of fire somewhat like a guinea? O no, no, I see an innumerable company of the heavenly host crying Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty. – William Blake
Embraces are cominglings from the head even to the feet, and not a pompous high priest entering by a secret place. – William Blake
My mother groaned, my father wept, into the dangerous world I leapt; helpless, naked, piping loud, like a fiend hid in a cloud. – William Blake
When a mans life is destroyed or damaged by some wound or privation of soul or body, which is due to other mens actions or negligence, it is not only his sensibility that suffers but also his aspiration toward the good. Therefore there has been sacrilege towards that which is sacred in him. – Simone Weil