You can’t possibly get a good technology going

without an enormous number of failures. It’s a universal rule. If you look at bicycles, there were thousands of weird models built and tried before they found the one that really worked. You could never design a bicycle theoretically. Even now, after we’ve been building them for 100 years, it’s very difficult to understand just why a bicycle works – it’s even difficult to formulate it as a mathematical problem. But just by trial and error, we found out how to do it, and the error was essential.

– Freeman Dyson in a 1998 interview

“This is the heaven of the gods who sleep. All those that are not worshipped now are asleep.”

“Then does Time not kill the gods?”

“No. But for three or four thousand years a god is worshipped and for three or four he sleeps. Only Time is wakeful always.”

“But they that teach us of new gods, are they not new?”

“They hear the old ones stirring in their sleep being about to wake, because the dawn is breaking and the priests crow. These are the happy prophets: unhappy are they that hear some old god speak while he sleeps still being deep in slumber, and prophesy and prophesy and no dawn comes, they are those that men stone saying, ‘Prophesy where this stone shall hit you, and this.’”

“Then shall Time never slay the gods.”

“They shall die by the bedside of the last man.”

A Shop in Go-By Street, Lord Dunsany

I do not insist that you live in the mountains and the deserts but that you be good and moderate and chaste, while dwelling in the midst of the city.

– John Chrysostom, Homilies on Matthew

Chilandar was a work of their conception […]

 […] but, like their vineyards, it was all merely an image of another, dreamed-of city. And the cenobites carried that other, celestial city inside them, and in them it was inviolable and did not depend on earthly buildings; rather, they depended on it and were built in its mirror image. The cenobites themselves were the city, and it could be destroyed only by destroying them. Thanks to this city inside them, they ever forgot who they were, and they know they would be the same tomorrow, too…

Landscape Painted With Tea, Book One,
Milorad Pavic

…we here, as you are bound to have noticed,

serve food twice and pour wine twice. Never once and never three times. A book, if you expect wonders from it, should also be read twice. It should be read once in youth, when you are younger than its heroes, and the second time when you are advanced in age and the book’s heroes become younger than yourself. That way you will see them from both sides of their years, and they will be able to put you to the test on the other side of the clock, where time stands still. This means that sometimes it is forever too late to read some books, just as sometimes it is forever too late to go to bed…”

Landscape Painted With Tea, Book One
Milorad Pavic

White-raving storm of molten metals,

[the Sun] is but a coal from the altar of the Father’s never-ending sacrifice to his children. See every little flower straighten its stalk, lift up its neck, and with outstretched head stand expectant: something more than the sun, greater than the light, is coming, is coming – none the less surely coming that it is long upon the road! What matters to-day, or to-morrow, or ten thousand years to Life himself, to Love himself! He is coming, is coming, and the necks of all humanity are stretched out to see him come! Every morning will they thus outstretch themselves, every evening will they droop and wait – until he comes. – Is this but an airdrawn vision? When he comes, will he indeed find them watching thus?

Lilith, chapter XLV,
George MacDonald