The Book of Lies

KE@AAH IH DEWDROPS Verily, love is death, and death is life to come. Man returneth not again; the stream floweth not uphill; the old life is no more; there is a new life that is not his. Yet that life is of his very essence; it is more He than all that he calls He, In the silence of a dewdrop is every tendency of his soul, and of his mind, and of his body; it is the Quintessence and the Elixir of his being. Therein are the forces that made him and his father and his father’s father before him. This is the Dew of Immortality. Let this go free, even as It will; thou art not its master, but the vehicle of It.