And the trees were so glad to have the children back again that they had covered themselves with blossoms, and were waving their arms gently above the children’s heads. 

..statues of saints in somebody else's religion. To me they're just rock shaped into glorified nobodies.

And I can find the joy only if I do my work in the best way possible to me. But the best is a matter of standards—and I set my own standards. I inherit nothing. I stand at the end of no tradition. I may, perhaps, stand at the beginning of one.

We must conquer life by living it to the full, and then we can go to meet death with a certain prestige.

Written By Aleister Crowley

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