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Every day with him was a new experience in joy, peace, and wisdom. Never did I find him deluded or intoxicated with greed or emotion or anger or any human attachment. "The darkness of MAYA is silently approaching. Let us hie homeward within."
So far, we have done nothing but increase our scurrying a thousand-fold." He tried to make a joke of the matter. "You sound like a beatnik." "Perhaps," she answered slowly, still looking up at the screen. "They considered my father beat dead-beat. But I know more of this science than you do, Jack Odin. What if I told you there was little chance of finding Maya.
"Do you expect me to erect a honeycomb on his nose?" exclaimed Puck. "You have no sense of humor, dear girl. What do you do that's useful?" Little Maya went red all over, but quickly collected herself to hide her embarrassment from Puck. "The time is coming," she flashed, "when I shall do something big and splendid, and good and useful too. But first I want to see what is going on in the world.
Do what pleases thee. ""Sakra said, 'O thou of sweet smiles, who art thou that art possessed of such radiance and adorned with plumes that thus issuest from the body of Vali? I do not know thee. Kindly tell me thy name. Who, indeed, art thou that thus standest here as Maya herself, blazing with thy own splendour, after having deserted the lord of the Daityas? O, tell me this as I question thee.
Part of what I used to play with was true enough; it is all Mâyâ, a delusion, this sense life it is no life at all. The actual life is behind, under it all; it goes deep deep down, it stretches on, on and yet it has nothing to do with space or time. I feel as if I were beating myself against a stone wall. My words can have no sense for you any more than they would have had for me yesterday."
If I bend a blade of grass over and reach the tip of it to you, will you be able to use it and save yourself?" Bobbie had no ears for her suggestion. Frightened out of his senses, he did nothing but kick and scream. So little Maya, in spite of the rain, flew out of her cover over to a slim green blade of grass beside Bobbie, and clung to it near the tip.
"What you mean to say is that Man's Finger may be ranked among the best poems you know of, and one must go way back in literature before one comes across anything like it. The prime requisite in art is that it should contain something new, which is what most poets forget. And bigness, too. Don't you agree with me?" "Certainly," said Maya, "I think...."
IV., page 277, remarks: “That the scarcity of idols among the Maya antiquities must be regarded as extraordinary.
Maya or Delusion, the foundation postulate of pantheism, by which things seem to be, by which the One seems to be many, is identified with the creative will of Parameswar. In fact, Pantheism has been virtually transformed into Theism, Brahma into a Creator, and Maya into his creative and sustaining fiat. The Text-book of the Hindu Religion is finally monotheistic, as the times will have it.
Some nonsense about having contacted some race at the edge of creation who would go with him to plunder the stars. He demanded the secret of Wolden's invention again. I think his mind is going fast." "Not as fast as he will go if I ever get my hands on him," Gunnar promised. "But Maya is awake now," Ato explained. "We had time on our side before.
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