When death comes, it's just like winter. We don't say, "There ought not to be winter." That the winter season, when the leaves fall and the snow comes, is some kind of defeat, something which we should hold out against. No. Winter is part of the natural course of events. No winter, no summer. No cold, no heat.

Yet again, the more you strive for some kind of perfection or mastery—in morals, in art or in spirituality—the more you see that you are playing a rarified and lofty form of the old ego-game, and that your attainment of any height is apparent to yourself and to others only by contrast with someone else's depth or failure.

When you really understand that you are what you see and know, you do not run around the countryside thinking, "I am all this!" There is simply all this.

We must see that consciousness is neither an isolated soul nor the mere function of a single nervous system, but of that totality of interrelated stars and galaxies which makes a nervous system possible.

We know that from time to time there arise among human beings people who seem to exude love as naturally as the sun gives out heat.

Jesus was not the man he was as a result of making Jesus Christ his personal savior.

The hallucination of being a separate ego will not stand up to biological tests.