Unless the inner man meditates upon the law of God and is nourished thereby, unless he is strengthened by reading and by prayer, he is conquered by the outer man, and he serves his master.
The soul that really loves God and Christ, though it may do ten thousand righteousnesses, esteems itself as having wrought nothing, by reason of its insatiable aspiration after God. Though it should exhaust the body with fastings, with watchings, its attitude towards the virtues is as if it had not even begun to labor for them.
Love of God proceeds from conversing with him; this conversation of prayer comes about through stillness, and stillness comes with the stripping away of the self.
The love of God is not something we learn from another. Neither did we learn from another how to love the sunshine or how to defend our life. Nor has anyone taught us how to love our parents, or those who have reared us. And so, indeed much more, learning how to love God does not come to us from outside. But in the very commencement of the life of man, there is placed within us a certain seminal conception, having, from itself, the beginnings of a natural propensity towards this love.
A man standing on the seashore sees the immense expanse of water, but his eye can embrace only a small part and cannot reach its limit. In the same way, a man who, through contemplation, is given to see the limitless ocean of Divine glory and to see God Himself with the eyes of his mind, sees God and the infinite vastness of His glory, though not the whole as it really is, but only as much as is possible for him.
