"SOPHIE! I loved her, tenderly at worst. Yet in my passion’s highest ecstasy, When life lost pleasure in desire to die And never taste again the deadly thirst For those caresses; even then a curst Sick pang shot through me: looking afar on high, Beyond, I see Σοφία in the sky."

The Two Wisdoms in The Gate of the Sanctuary from The Temple of the Holy Ghost (Collected Works, Vol I) by Aleister Crowley.

"SOPHIE! I loved her, tenderly at worst.
Yet in my passion’s highest ecstasy,
When life lost pleasure in desire to die
And never taste again the deadly thirst
For those caresses; even then a curst
Sick pang shot through me: looking afar on high,
Beyond, I see Σοφία in the sky.” [via]

"The blue skies focus, as a burning bowl, The restless passion of the universe Into our mutual anger and distress, To be forbidden (the Creator’s curse) To comprehend the other’s loveliness. We cannot grasp the ecstasy of this; Only we strain and struggle and renew The utter bliss of the unending kiss, The mutual pang that shudders through and through, Repeated and repeated, as the light Can build a partial palace of the day"

The Reaper in The Gate of the Sanctuary from The Temple of the Holy Ghost (Collected Works, Vol I) by Aleister Crowley.

"The blue skies focus, as a burning bowl,
The restless passion of the universe
Into our mutual anger and distress,
To be forbidden (the Creator’s curse)
To comprehend the other’s loveliness.
We cannot grasp the ecstasy of this;
Only we strain and struggle and renew
The utter bliss of the unending kiss,
The mutual pang that shudders through and through,
Repeated and repeated, as the light
Can build a partial palace of the day” [via]

"Where am I? Seven days my spirit fell, Down, down the whirlpools and the gulfs of hell: Seven days a corpse lay desolate—at last Back drew the spirit and the soul aghast To animate that clay—O horrible! The resurrection pang is hardly past. Yet in awhile I stumbled to my feet To flee—no nightmare could be worse to meet. And, spite of that, I knew some deadlier trap Some worm more poisonous would set—mayhap!"

The Nameless Quest in The Gate of the Sanctuary from The Temple of the Holy Ghost (Collected Works, Vol I) by Aleister Crowley.

"Where am I? Seven days my spirit fell,
Down, down the whirlpools and the gulfs of hell:
Seven days a corpse lay desolate—at last
Back drew the spirit and the soul aghast
To animate that clay—O horrible!
The resurrection pang is hardly past.
Yet in awhile I stumbled to my feet
To flee—no nightmare could be worse to meet.
And, spite of that, I knew some deadlier trap
Some worm more poisonous would set—mayhap!” [via]

"Let the ripe kisses of your thirsty throats And beating blossoms of your breath, and flowers Of swart illimitable hair that floats Vague and caressing, and the amorous powers Of your unceasing hours, The rich hot fragrance of your dewy skins, The eyes that yearn, the breasts that bleed, the thighs That cling and cluster to these infinite sins, Forget the earthlier pleasures of the prize, And raise diviner sighs; Cling to the white and bloody feet that hang, And drink the purple of a God’s pure side; With your wild hair assuage His deadliest pang, And on His broken bosom still abide His virginal white bride."

The Lesbian Hell in The Gate of the Sanctuary from The Temple of the Holy Ghost (Collected Works, Vol I) by Aleister Crowley.

"Let the ripe kisses of your thirsty throats
And beating blossoms of your breath, and flowers
Of swart illimitable hair that floats
Vague and caressing, and the amorous powers
Of your unceasing hours,
The rich hot fragrance of your dewy skins,
The eyes that yearn, the breasts that bleed, the thighs
That cling and cluster to these infinite sins,
Forget the earthlier pleasures of the prize,
And raise diviner sighs;
Cling to the white and bloody feet that hang,
And drink the purple of a God’s pure side;
With your wild hair assuage His deadliest pang,
And on His broken bosom still abide
His virginal white bride.” [via]