The tender friendships one gives up, on parting, leave their bite on the heart, but also a curious feeling of a treasure somewhere buried.

You give birth to that on which you fix your mind

I have always loved the desert. One sits down on a desert sand dune, sees nothing, hears nothing. Yet through the silence something throbs, and gleams.

The tender friendships one gives up, on parting, leave their bite on the heart, but also a curious feeling of a treasure somewhere buried.

We live not by things, but by the meaning of things. It is needful to transmit the passwords from generation to generation.

War is not an adventure. It is a disease. It is like typhus.

We are prudent people. We are afraid to let go of our petty reality in order to grasp at a great shadow.