How you spend your days is how you spend your life.

You search, you break your heart, your back, your brain, and then-and only then-it is handed to you.

We have not yet encountered any god who is as merciful as a man who flicks a beetle over on its feet.

There is no such thing as an artist: there is only the world lit or unlit as the light allows. When the candle is burning, who looks at the wick? When the candle is out, who needs it?

What I call innocence is the spirit's unself-conscious state at any moment of pure devotion to any object. It is at once a receptiveness and total concentration.

Divinity is not playful. The universe was not made in jest but in solemn incomprehensibl e earnest. By a power that is unfathomably secret, and holy, and fleet. There is nothing to be done about it, but ignore it, or see.

Silence is not our heritage but our destiny; we live where we want to live.