“I would like to know the stars again as the Chaldeans knew them, two thousand years before Christ. I would like to be able to put my ego into the sun, and my personality into the moon, and my character into the planets, and live the life of the heavens, as the early Chaldeans did.”
— D.H. Lawrence
The moon is the great moon still, she gives forth her soft and feline influences, she sways us still, and asks for sympathy back again.
In her so-called deadness there is enormous potency still, and power even over our lives. The Moon! Artemis! the great goddess of the splendid past of men! Are you going to tell me she is a dead lump?
She is not dead.
But maybe we are dead, half-dead little modern worms stuffing our damp carcasses with thought-forms that have no sensual reality.
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