Chapter 1 The Earth

There I say, there is no question of all this in the center of gravity of the earth; just as little as physically taken with the heart of a man, there can be a question of all this. The heart is neither a diamond, nor a gold nugget, nor is it iron and magnetic stone; The heart is not a hollow space filled with fire, but physically seen, it is an extremely artistic cellular fabric, within which the living soul, and in it the spirit of man, is and can be active like a weaver on his loom, because this loom is arranged for the formation of the natural life and for the temporary preservation thereof in such a way that through it's artistic construction, everything can be produced by the hands of the soul, which is necessary for the representation of the physical life. Once this loom has become unskilled in it's natural construction in something, then it does not go quite right with the production of the physical life any more. But if it has finally become completely inept and unskilful, then the soul can no longer use it, and it is time for it to leave this vain workshop. – The Earth, Chapter 1, Paragraph 13

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