A Quote by John of the Cross

The window of the soul cleansed perfectly and made completely transparent by the divine light — © John of the Cross
The window of the soul cleansed perfectly and made completely transparent by the divine light
Style should be like window-glass, perfectly transparent, and with very little sash.
I call it God Light, because it reminds me of heaven. Every time the light shines through the window we built or any window at all, you'll know I'm right there with you, okay? That's going to be me. I'll be the light in the window.
What we're seeking to do is become transparent. A transparent window on reality. But that takes time to do. We're starting with a very solid, objectified view of ourselves and existence
In order to be transparent, you really have to be completely honest and open, so that's how I've lived my life, and that's where I am now. I am completely transparent. There's nothing that you can't ask me and nothing I won't talk about.
The white light of truth, in traversing the many sided transparent soul of the poet, is refracted into iris-hued poetry.
That I may have the soul-life, the soul-nature, let divine beauty bring to me divine soul.
I wonder what a soul…a person's soul…would look like,' said Priscilla dreamily. 'Like that, I should think,' answered Anne, pointing to a radiance of sifted sunlight streaming through a birch tree. 'Only with shape and features of course. I like to fancy souls as being made of light. And some are all shot through with rosy stains and quivers…and some have a soft glitter like moonlight on the sea…and some are pale and transparent like mist at dawn.
Where the road sloped upward beyond the trees, I sat and looked toward the building where Naoko lived. It was easy to tell which room was hers. All I had to do was find the one window toward the back where a faint light trembled. I focused on that point of light for a long, long time. It made me think of something like the final throb of a soul's dying embers. I wanted to cup my hands over what was left and keep it alive. I went on watching the way Jay Gatsby watched that tiny light on the opposite shore night after night.
The divine light which you carry within your soul is inherited from God because you are His daughter. Part of the light which makes you so magnificent is the blessing of womanhood.
Meditation means this opening out of the soul to the Divine and letting the Divine shine in without obstruction from the personal self. Therefore it means renunciation. It means throwing away everything that one has, and waiting empty for the light to come in.
The light struck upon the trees in the garden, making one leaf transparent and then another. One bird chirped high up; there was a pause; another chirped lower down. The sun sharpended the walls of the house, and rested like the tip of a fan upon a white blind and made a fingerprint of a shadow under the leaf by the bedroom window. The blind stirred slightly, but all within was dim and unsubstantial. The birds sang their blank melody outside.
Creation was given to people as a clean window through which the light of God could shine into people's souls. Sun and moon, night and day, rain, sea, the crops, the flowering tree, all these things were transparent. They spoke to people not of themselves but only of Him who made them. Nature was symbolic. But the progressive degradation of humans led them further and further from this truth. Nature became opaque.
Once you are absolutely thoughtlessly aware, you are one with the Divine, so much so that the Divine takes over every activity, every moment of your life and looks after you and you feel completely secured, one with the Divine and enjoy the blessings of the Divine.
I long to be filled with divine knowledge, divine wisdom, divine love, divine holiness, to the utmost extent of my capacity. I want to feel that all the currents of my soul are interfused in one channel deep and wide, and all flowing towards the heart of Christ.
I have a small room to write in. One wall is completely covered in books. And I face the window with the curtain closed to stop the light hitting the computer.
Light is everything in the world to men's eyes Light thirsts after light yes, the soul, twin to the stars moves through space to find, be made eternal by light and grasp, trembling, the sun a torch handed on from runner to runner through the millennia.
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