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

Last night as I was sleeping, I dreamt - marvellous error! - That it was God I had here inside my heart.

Don't try to rush things: for the cup to run over, it must first be filled.

There is no way; we make the road by walking it.

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The unpublished manuscript is like an uncon-fessed sin that festers in the soul, corrupting and contaminating it.

What have you done with the garden that was entrusted to you?