For what the Spirit sees becomes a truth And what the soul imagines is made a world - Aurobindo Ghosh

It was the hour before the Gods awake.
Across the path of the divine Event The huge foreboding mind of Night, alone
In her unlit temple of eternity,
Lay stretched immobile upon Silence' marge.
Almost one felt, opaque, impenetrable,
In the sombre symbol of her eyeless muse
The abysm of the unbodied Infinite;
A fathomless zero occupied the world.

A voice of the eternal Ecstasy.

We cannot afford to raise any institution to the rank of a fetish. To do so would be simply to become the slaves of our own machinery.