We do not only free God by battling and subduing the visible world about us; we also create God. "Open your eyes," God shouts; "I want to see! Prick … - Nikos Kazantzakis

The wife of my God is matter; they wrestle with each other, they laugh and weep, they cry out in the nuptial bed of flesh. They spawn and are dismembered. They fill sea, land, and air with species of plants, animals, men, and spirits. This primordial pair embraces, is dismembered, and multiplies in every living creature. All the concentrated agony of the Universe bursts out in every living thing. God is imperiled in the sweet ecstasy and bitterness of flesh. But he shakes himself free, he leaps out of brains and loins, then clings to new brains and new loins until the struggle for liberation again breaks out from the beginning.

Someone within me is struggling to lift a great weight, to cast off the mind and flesh by overcoming habit, laziness, necessity. I do not know from where he comes or where he goes. I clutch at his onward march in my ephemeral breast, I listen to his panting struggle, I shudder when I touch him.

ان الله لايتعجل ابدا.انه ساكن ,يرى المستقبل كأنه ماض, اذ انه يعمل في نطاق الابديه.المخلوقات الزائله التي لاتدري ماذا سيحدث غدا هي وحدها التي تتعجل بدافع من الخوف والقلق .دع الله يعمل في صمت , ولتكن مشيئته. لاترفع رأسك ولا تسأل. فكل سؤال خطيه