...in some way the future and God invite thoughts of collapse, the end of the self. The end of words. The future has the look of a nameless expanse. The past is either trapped in the individuated body like water in a rag, or else both past and present are acts of shucking, removing, discarding the gravity of the world's givens as one enters a freer, lighter economy of space. One could think of the material world as something like an air that one runs through at high speed, in order to get past it. This thought would reverse the usual sense of being as being stuck in a body moving along with time. 

Just as music leaves itself behind, and words have to be spoken in order to effect their disappearance, one can catch a glimmer of a life itself being a glad renunciation of itself. 

--Fanny Howe