The Pleroma (n.) is what it is fruitless to think about, since thinking about it would dissolve the thinker.
The Pleroma (n.) is whole and endless even in the smallest point, since small and great are only its qualities.
The Pleroma (n.) breaks up into events in time, so a family quarrel is not merely personal but a fragment of the pleromatic process.
The Pleroma (n.) pervades every creature the way light pervades a transparent body — without making it any lighter or darker.
The Pleroma (n.) is what we are and yet have no share in — infinitely removed from us, not in space or time but in essence.
The Pleroma (n.) cannot be talked about; whatever we say of it is really said about our own distinctiveness.
The Pleroma (n.) is the nothingness that is also fullness — where thinking and being both cease, and no one can be without becoming distinct from it.
The Pleroma (n.) fills creation as sunlight fills the air, yet creation takes no part in it — like a perfectly transparent body that grows neither bright nor dark from the light going through it.
The Pleroma (n.) is the nothingness-fullness where thinking and being cease: no one is in it, for he would then be distinct from it — and it is fruitless to think about it, for that would mean self-dissolution.
The Pleroma (n.) has no qualities of its own: creatura's essence is to distinguish, and so it even distinguishes qualities in the pleroma that are not there — distinctiveness is creatura itself.