On a time the enlightened Soul came again to this Soul, and finding it
still in so great trouble, anguish, and grief, said to it.
What dost thou? Wilt thou destroy thyself in thy anguish and sorrow? Why
dost thou torment thyself in thy own Power and Will, seeing thy torment
increaseth thereby more and more? Yea, if thou shouldst sink thyself
down to the bottom of the sea, or fly to the uttermost coasts of the
morning, or raise thyself above the stars, yet thou wouldst not be
released. For the more thou grievest, tormentest, and troublest thyself,
the more painful thy nature will be; and yet thou wilt not be able to
come to Rest. For thy Power is quite lost, and as a dry stick burnt to a
coal cannot grow green and spring afresh by its own power, nor get sap
to flourish again with other trees and plants; so neither canst thou
reach the Place of God by thy own power and strength, and transform
thyself into that Angelical Image which thou hadst at first. For in
respect to God thou art withered and dry, like a dead plant that hath
lost its sap and strength, and so art become a dry tormenting Hunger.
Thy Properties are like Heat and Cold which continually strive one
against the other, and can never unite.