From "Not the Life and Adventures of Sir Roger Bloxam" by Aleister Crowley

See you not how even our dreams, our wishes, all that we are, dates back to hidden ancestor-work? Only the Freudians go not far enough; the glowing seed that made my mind so brilliant had its origin in the Father of all brilliance, Our Lord the Sun. Thus once again, by yet another path, we reach the brave "There is no part of me which is not of the Gods." Rejoice, o brothers, we are altogether of the divine substance. We neither think, nor feel, nor perceive, nor are, any other thing than that all-bounteous, all-beautiful One, that Lord in his splendour and his ecstasy that cometh and goeth in his chariot upon high, giving light and praise, yet neither moveth nor uttereth any Voice! For there is nothing in the Universe that is not of that Unity -- rejoice! rejoice! All paths are spectra, in the prism of consciousness, of that One Light...