I. Don't trace out your profile-- forget your side view-- all that is outer stuff. II. Look for your other half who walks always next to you and tends to be who you aren't.

Has my heart gone to sleep? Have the beehives of my dreams stopped working, the waterwheel of the mind run dry, scoops turning empty, only shadow inside? No, my heart is not asleep. It is awake, wide awake. Not asleep, not dreaming— its eyes are opened wide watching distant signals, listening on the rim of vast silence

By walking one makes the road, and upon glancing behind sees the path

Death is something we don't have to fear, since as long as we exist death doesn't and when it does we don't.

The truly erotic sensibility, in evoking the image of woman, never omits to clothe it. The robing and disrobing: that is the true traffic of love.

All uncertainty is fruitfull ... so long as it is accompanied by the wish to understand

Life is the path you beat while you walk it It's the walking that beats the path It is not the path that makes the walk