Jung went on as if talking to himself,
“Somewhere there was once a Flower, a Stone, a Crystal, a Queen, a King, a Palace, a Lover and his Beloved, and this was long ago, on an Island
Somewhere in the ocean five thousand years ago.. . . Such is Love, the Mystic Flower of the Soul.
This is the Center, the Self. . . .”
Jung spoke as if in a trance.
“Nobody understands what I mean” he said, “only a poet could begin to understand.”. . .
“You are a poet,” I said, moved by what I had heard.
“And that woman, is she still alive?” I asked.
“She died eight years ago. . . . I am very old. ~Miguel Serrano, Two Friendships, Pages 60-61.