The strange thing about growing old is that the intimate identification with the here and now is slowly lost; one feels transposed into infinity, more or less alone, no longer in hope or fear, only observing.
The frontier of the unknown can never do more than scratch the surface of eternally unknowable infinity.
The fact that our task is exactly commensurate with our life gives it the appearance of being infinite.
I know this world is ruled by infinite intelligence. Everything that surrounds us – everything that exists – proves that there are infinite laws behind it. There can be no denying this fact. It is mathematical in its precision.