What does all this mean finally, I kept asking like a college kid. Why does it make me want to cry? Maybe it’s that we are all outsiders, we are all making our own unusual way through a wilderness of normality that is just a myth.

We breathe the light, we breathe the music, we breathe the moment as it passes through us.

He was so excited by this little bit of intelligence that he might have gone off, perplexed, pondering for a long time. It was like reading a wonderful sentence in a book, and not being able to continue because so many possibilities were crowding his mind.

I know nothing of God or the Devil. I have never seen a vision nor learned a secret that would damn or save my soul.

Anger is too pathetic. Anger is as weak as fear.

I think all of us ordinary mortals tend to mythologize people as good-looking as you.

DO I BELIEVE THAT PEOPLE ARE BASICALLY GOOD? Yes, I do believe that, and I trust Buddhists and Hindus and Moslems to seek the good and to want to live in peace.