What we see as death, empty space, or nothingness is only
the trough between the crests of this endlessly waving ocean. It is all part of
the illusion that there should seem to be something to be gained in the future,
and that there is an urgent necessity to go on and on until we get it. Yet just
as there is no time but the present, and no one except the all-and-everything,
there is never anything to be gained--though the zest of the game is to pretend
there is.
Source:
The Book: On the Taboo Against Knowing Who You Are (Vintage)
Pages:
131
Contributed by:
Becky