Paracelsus:

Extract the juice which is itself a Light. Pulp,   manna,   gentle Theriasin, ergot like mold on flame, these red leaves bursting from mesquite by the side of dry creekbed.         Extract the tar, the sticky substance heart of things (each plant a star,        extract the juice of stars by circular stillation smear the inner man w/the coction till he burn like worms of light in quicksilver not the false puffballs of marshfire,      extract the heart of the empty heart it is full of the star soul that paces fierce in the deeps of earth the Red Man, healer in furs who carries a club who carries the pale homunculus in his belly. For you are angel, you call the soul from plants or pearls of ambergris out of the grudging sea. Extract arcanum.  Separate true Archeus from the false the bitter is not less potent—nor does clarity bespeak truth. Out of the heart of the ineffable draw the black flecks of matter & from these the cold, blue fire. Dry water.   Immerse yourself though it be but a drop. This Iliaster flowers like the wind. Out of the ash, the Eidolon of the world Crystalline. Perfect.