His life rushes onward in such torrential rhythm that...only angels and devils can catch the tempo of it.

Will you come down and kiss me good night?

I hate rarely, though when I hate, I hate murderously.

Whenever you do something that is not aligned with the yearning or your soul—you create suffering.

I walk ahead of myself in perpetual expectancy of miracles.

To commit suicide is easy. To live without a god is more difficult. The drunkenness of triumph is greater than the drunkenness of sacrifice.

That is my essential reason for writing, not for fame, not to be celebrated after death, but to heighten and create life all around me. I also write because when I am writing I reach the high moment of fusion sought by the mystics, the poets, the lovers, a sense of communion with the universe.