Men, animals, scenes, flowers, change their shapes and positions as in a kaleidoscope turning, and they ever take new forms making new words. If we cannot accommodate ourselves to new forms and new words we become unhappy. The theosophist is calm, because he knows that which changes, but which is the same, whatever form it takes. They curse the name of God, God Himself they cannot curse. They are unhappy because they worship shapes, and all shapes are transient.
Passion is affection for form.
Love is truly for the spirit beneath form, for infinity infinity, that is formlessness. Idolatry is passion. Then our conversation entered into a barren argument which lasted till late in the night. She held that she was aware of infinities intuitively, that her mind was graded to the All. The reader may imagine our dialectical hide and seek in this labyrinth.