Anything you do not give freely and abundantly becomes lost to you.

Write as if you are dying.

There is no whit less enlightenment under the tree by your street than there was under the Buddha's bo tree. I invite you to go sit under that tree by your street.

The real and proper question is: why is it beautiful?

Writers serve as the memory of a people. They chew over our public past.

The reader's ear must adjust down from loud life to the subtle, imaginary sounds of the written word. An ordinary reader picking up a book can't yet hear a thing; it will take half an hour to pick up the writing's modulations, its ups and downs and louds and softs.

Admire the world for never ending on you -- as you would an opponent, without taking your eyes away from him, or walking away.