In the night, the dead stood along the wall, and cried, "We would have knowledge of God. Where is God? Is God dead?" God is not dead. Now, as ever, he liveth. There is a God whom you know not, for mankind forgot it. We name it by it's name: Abraxas. Abraxas standeth above the sun and above the devil. It is improbable probability, unreal reality. Hard to know is the deity of Abraxas; it's power is greatest because man perceiveth it not. From the sun he draweth absolute good, from the Devil, infinite evil, but from Abraxas: life. Abraxas is the sun and at the same time, the eternally sucking gorge of the void. The power of Abraxas is twofold, but ye see it not, because for your eyes the warring opposites of this power are extinguished. What the Sun-god speaketh is life, what the Devil speaketh is death, but Abraxas speaketh that of power, of the cursed word, which is life and death at the same time. Abraxas speaketh of truth and lie, of good and evil, of light and darkness; in the same word and in the same act. Wherefore is Abraxas terrible? It is as splendid as the lion who [something] striketh down it's victim. It is as beautiful as a day of spring(?). It is the abundance which seeketh the union with emptiness. It is love and love's murder. It is the saint, and [something] betrayer. It is the brightest light of day and the darkest night of madness. God dwelleth behind the sun, the Devil behind the night, but God bringeth forth out of light what the Devil sucketh into the night. Abraxas is the world: it's becoming, and it's passing. Upon every gift that cometh from the Sun-god, the Devil layeth his curse. Everything that ye entreat from the Sun-god, ye getteth indeed from the Devil. Everything that ye create with the Sun-god giveth effective power to the Devil. What is terrible Abraxas? It is the delight of the earth, the cruelty of the heavens. Before it, there is no question and no reply.