Our grottoes are very beautiful when covered with those singing flowers whose fragrance greets the stranger with a wonderful rapture similar to the fragrance that fills the atmosphere when roses are in bloom in your earth. Poets live here in their beautiful visions of higher life―artists, sculptors, inventors, who have laboratories or schools of design to perfect their glorious ideas or conceptions.
You ask how do we live.
We answer by being embalmed with all and everything that is beautiful and in harmony to our taste or desire.
Comprehending the beautiful we attract the beautiful to us.
Nothing is allowed by the ruling innate law to mar an inspiration in the heavenly spheres. We yield to the impulses that surround us, as an infant to its mother for sustenance. Thus we retire to our grottoes where all things minister to those beautiful visions of soul inspiration.
There we are lulled and charmed by the music of the flowers and birds and the hum of insect life while the perfume of flowers impregnates our being with sweetness.
Thus our soul is rested and uplifted, and like the flowers, gather in the nectar of God's glories, which make us grander and more noble in doing the great good for those who need our strength and who do not have such beautiful homes.
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