Am I in harmony with myself?

I -- this thought which is called I, -- is the mould into which the world is poured like melted wax. The mould is invisible, but the world betrays the shape of the mould. You call it the power of circumstance, but it is the power of me. Am I in harmony with myself?

The world is the shadow of that substance which we are, the perpetual creation of the powers of thought, of those that are dependent and of those that are independent of our will.

Though we should soar into the heavens, though we should sink into the abyss, we never go out of ourselves; it is always our own thought that we perceive