The goal in life is to discover that you’ve always been where you were supposed to be.

No man, however civilized, can listen for very long to African drumming, or Indian chanting, or Welsh hymn singing, and retain intact his critical and self-conscious personality.

A mind that has come to the stillness of wisdom shall know being, shall know what it is to love. Love is neither personal nor impersonal. Love is love, not to be defined or described by the mind as exclusive or inclusive. Love is its own eternity; it is the real, the supreme, the immeasurable.

Addiction is an increasing desire for an act that gives less and less satisfaction

Speed, it seems to me, provides the one genuinely modern pleasure.

The consistent thinker, the consistently moral man, is either a walking mummy or else, if he has not succeeded in stifling all his vitality, a fanatical monomaniac.

Folly is often more cruel in the consequences than malice can be in the intent.