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Augustine, Saint, Bishop of Hippo, 354-430

"The Confessions of St. Augustine"


I cannot measure so as to know, how much love there yet lacketh to me,
ere my life may run into Thy embracements, nor turn away, until it
be hidden in the hidden place of Thy Presence. This only I know,
that woe is me except in Thee: not only without but within myself
also; and all abundance, which is not my God, is emptiness to me.
But was not either the Father, or the Son, borne above the waters?
if this means, in space, like a body, then neither was the Holy
Spirit; but if the unchangeable supereminence of Divinity above all
things changeable, then were both Father, and Son, and Holy Ghost
borne upon the waters. Why then is this said of Thy Spirit only, why
is it said only of Him? As if He had been in place, Who is not in
place, of Whom only it is written, that He is Thy gift? In Thy Gift we
rest; there we enjoy Thee. Our rest is our place. Love lifts us up
thither, and Thy good Spirit lifts up our lowliness from the gates
of death. In Thy good pleasure is our peace. The body by its own
weight strives towards its own place.


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