O Jerusalem! Jerusalem! I have forsaken thy courts, Thy pillars of ivory and gold, thy curtains of silk and fine Linen, thy pavements of precious stones, thy walls of pearl And gold, thy gates of Thanksgiving, thy windows of Praise,

Thy clouds of Blessing, thy Cherubims of Tender Mercy,

Stretching their Wings sublime over the Little Ones of Albion.

O Human Imagination! O Divine Body, I have crucifièd!

I have turnèd my back upon thee into the Wastes of Moral Law:

There Babylon is builded in the Waste, founded in Human desolation.

O Babylon! thy Watchman stands over thee in the night;

Thy severe Judge all the day long proves thee, O Babylon,

With provings of Destruction, with giving thee thy heart’s desire.

William Blake

Concepts can never be presented to me merely, they must be knitted into the structure of my being, and this can only be done through my own activity.

M. P. Follett, Creative Experience