More Thoughts on The Moon

The moon loves cause, she reaps its consequence. In her dwell in outmost joy all causes that reach her; but the cause that makes her happiest is the Sun. When he shines on her, she smiles! She is happy, all other causes are too faint and too cold to bring her such a smile, such as makes men dance, in which all other causes are dimly reflected, sharply unified. Men are all astounded at the great causes when they gaze upon her, and dance to their reflected beauty on the pale earth of her light. And women... They look at the moon and can feel no greater pride. Her identity is their possibility, a reflection of their act, and they feed from her consequence both symbolically and directly. O woman! I love to be loved by you. O moon! I love to be shown by you.