A careless pilgrim only scatters the dust of his passions more widely.

Those who are slaves to passions, run down with the stream (of desires), as a spider runs down the web which he has made himself; when they have cut this, at last, wise people leave the world free from cares, leaving all affection behind.

Is it sin, which makes the worm a chrysalis, and the chrysalis a butterfly, and the butterfly dust?

Dust scatters blue light out, but it's much more gradual.

Some people are born again; evil-doers go to hell; righteous people go to heaven; those who are free from all worldly desires attain immortality.

Rouse thyself! do not be idle!