Abraxas (n.) is love and love's murder, the saint and his betrayer.
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Abraxas (n.) is nothing exotic: it is the love of man, the speech of man, the appearance and the shadow of man.
Abraxas (n.) is the dominus mundi, lord of the physical world, a world-creator of ambivalent nature — the dark antithesis in the depths to the divine child in the winged egg above.
Abraxas (n.) gives us LIFE, altogether indefinite, the mother of good and evil — a power greatest because man does not see it, since in his eyes its warring opposites cancel out.
Abraxas (n.) is the mightiest created being, in whom creation is afraid of itself: the son's horror of the mother and the mother's love for the son, the delight of the earth and the cruelty of the heavens — deceptive reality.
Abraxas (n.) speaks the hallowed and accursed word that is at once life and death, producing truth and lying, good and evil, in the same word and the same act — splendid as the lion in the instant he strikes, beautiful as a spring day.
Abraxas (n.) is to be feared, not sought — he will find you, like Eros: worship him and you increase his power over you; the more you free yourself from him, the closer you come to death, since he is the life of the universe.
Abraxas (n.) is the God mankind forgot: effectiveness itself, which joins God and devil and stands above both — improbable probability, that which takes unreal effect; force, duration, change.