god is man made phantom man is a god made atom this science made silence this silence made science abandon all hope ye who enter here..
why when we talk to god, we are praying but when god talks to us we are schizophrenic? - lily tomlin comedian
silent as a wolf, powys was the son of a preacher man, brother to john cowper powys he hates science and modern inventions, such as cars and planes, and is attracted to slender, androgynous women.
"No sight that the human eyes can look upon is more provocative of awe than is the night sky scattered thick with stars. But this silence made visible, this silence made audible, does not necessarily give rise to a religious mood. It may evoke a mood that neither requires nor postulates a God. On frosty January nights when I walk over the downs I feel myself to be passing through a lofty heathen temple, a temple without devil-affrighting steeple bells, without altars of stone or altars of wood. Constellation beyond constellation, the unaltering white splash of the Milky Way, and no sign of benison, no sign of bane, only the homely hedgerow shadows and the earth's resigned stillness outstretched under the unparticipating splendour of a physical absolute."
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nice find!
Date: 2016-08-17 05:08 pm (UTC)god is man made phantom
man is a god made atom
this science made silence
this silence made science
abandon all hope ye who enter here..
why when we talk to god, we are praying
but when god talks to us we are schizophrenic? - lily tomlin comedian
silent as a wolf, powys was the son of a preacher man, brother to john cowper powys he hates science and modern inventions, such as cars and planes, and is attracted to slender, androgynous women.
he wrote a lot of books!
; )
hey! check this out..
http://www.powys-society.org/The%20Powys%20Society%20Llewelyn%20Powys.htm
"No sight that the human eyes can look upon is more provocative of awe than is the night sky scattered thick with stars. But this silence made visible, this silence made audible, does not necessarily give rise to a religious mood. It may evoke a mood that neither requires nor postulates a God. On frosty January nights when I walk over the downs I feel myself to be passing through a lofty heathen temple, a temple without devil-affrighting steeple bells, without altars of stone or altars of wood. Constellation beyond constellation, the unaltering white splash of the Milky Way, and no sign of benison, no sign of bane, only the homely hedgerow shadows and the earth's resigned stillness outstretched under the unparticipating splendour of a physical absolute."
.