My soul is not asleep. It is awake, wide awake. It neither sleeps nor dreams, but watches, its eyes wide open far-off things, and listens at the shores of the great silence.

Caminante, no hay camino, se hace camino al andar. (Walk, there is no path, the path is made by walking.)

Under all that we think, lives all we believe, like the ultimate veil of our spirits

Travelers, there is no path, paths are made by walking.

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

There is no road, the road is made by walking.

No one can shed light on vices he does not have or afflictions he has ever experienced.