from alan moore "voice of the fire"

We are all, each of us , the stinging, bloody fragments of a God that was torn into pieces by the birth-wail of Eternity. When all the days are done, She who is bride and Mother unto us all shall gather every scrap of scattered being up into one place, where we shall know again what we knew at the start of things, before that dreadful sundering. All being is divided between that which is , or else that which is not. Of these the last is greater, and has more importance. To know thought is to be in another country. everything is actual. Everything.

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