Over it, through it, and around it, rolled the white fog, in great masses, caressing the earth and hanging from the zenith, like the veil of the temple of the Most High.

All around lay the dark woods, framing in the vision like serried ranks encompassing a throne, to which great clouds rolled, then lifted and scudded away, like couriers coming for orders and hastening to obey them.
John's New Jerusalem never was so grand! No square corners and forbidding walls.

The gates were not made of several solid pearls, but of millions of pearletts, strung on threads of love, offering no barriers through which any soul might not pass.

My Patmos had been visited and I could dwell in it, work and wait; but I would live in it, not lie in a tomb, and once more I took hold of life.
I organized a society at which we read, had refreshments and danced--yea, broke church rules and practiced promiscuous dancing minus promiscuous kissing.

Of course this was wicked.