Now I spin you

All the line drawings, all the etchings, all the marks that seem to alight on Being are nothing but doodles, imaginatively or unimaginatively drawn for a moment on the amazing energizing basis of all. Yet nothing — nothing — can touch your bountiful Being. Nothing can darken it, stain it, scratch it. At most an erasable crayon goes across it. The marks the crayon leaves fade immediately as they are drawn and disappear altogether before the crayon reaches the edge of the paper.

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