“The celestial paradise where my family dwells is not called heaven. And, like many things, its name is the password for the gates. For if you cannot recognize the gates, how shall you pass them? And if you recognize them, how is it that you will not know how to call them?

Long ago my little brother said his Father’s kingdom was at hand. What a precocious linguist he was. He practically gave the whole thing away, right there. Thankfully, future generations lost touch with their languages and haven’t, in general, the slightest idea what he was on about.”

— an anonymous informant