In the dream the Hermit was speaking. “I am the eye of fiveness,” he said.
I listened… dreams are not always this lucid.
“In the beginning was the division, not the multiplication; and the division contained what divided it, but in another form…”
I was listening, intently. The figure of the Hermit promised great insight…
“No-thing can be a principle. It does not have to be nothing…” He paused, smiling. “But it does have to be a ghost…”
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