Man meets what exists and becomes as what is over against him, always simply a single being and each thing simply as being. . . . Nothing is present for him except this one being, but it implicates the whole world. Measure and comparison have disappeared; it lies with yourself how much of the immeasurable becomes reality for you. These meetings are not organized to make the world, but each is a sign of the world-order. They are not linked up with one another, but each assures you of your solidarity with the world. The world which appears to you in this way is unreliable, for it takes on a continually new appearance; you cannot hold it to its word. It has no density, for everything in it penetrates everything else; no duration, for it comes even when it is not summoned, and vanishes even when it is tightly held. It cannot be surveyed, and if you wish to make it capable of survey you lose it. . . . It is not outside you, it stirs in the depth of you. . . .

There are moments of silent depth in which you look on the world-order fully present. Then in its very flight the note will be heard; but the ordered world is its indistinguishable score. These moments are immortal, and most transitory of all; no content may be secured from them, but their power invades creation and the knowledge of man, beams of their power stream into the ordered world and dissolve it again and again. This happens in the history of both the individual and the race.

Martin Buber, I and Thou

Before the soul enters the air of this world, it is conducted through all the worlds. Last of all, it is shown the first light which once when the world was created illuminated all things, and which God removed when mankind grew corrupt. Why is the soul shown this light? So that from that hour on, it may yearn to attain the light, and approach it rung by rung in its life on earth. And those who reach it, the zaddikim, into them the light enters, and out of them it shines into the world again. That is the reason why it was hidden.

Martin Buber, Ten Rungs

Rabbi Mendel once boasted to his teacher Rabbi Elimelekh that evenings he saw the angel who rolls away the light before the darkness, and mornings the angel who rolls away the darkness before the light. "Yes," said Rabbi Elimelekh, "in my youth I saw that too. Later on you don't see these things any more."

Martin Buber