When our two souls stand up erect and strong,
Face to face, silent, drawing nigh and nigher,
Until the lengthening wings break into fire
At either ... curved point, -- what bitter wrong
Can the earth do to us, that we should not long
Be here contented? Think! In mounting higher,
The angels would press upon us, and aspire
To drop some golden orb of perfect song
Into our deep, dear silence.
TRUTH: knowing we are integral to the Whole. Truth is within ourselves; it takes no rise From outward things, whate'er you may believe. There is an inmost centre in us all Where truth abides in fullness; and around Wall upon wall, the gross flesh hems it in, This perfect, clear perception — which is truth. A baffling and perverting carnal mesh Blinds it, and makes all error, and, to KNOW Rather consists in opening out a way Whence the imprisoned splendour may escape, Than in effecting entry for a light Supposed to be without.
~ from "Paracelsus" by Robert Browning