Scientists say we use 10% of our brain. That's way too much. By doing just a little every day, I can gradually let the task completely overwhelm me.

For some strange reason, no matter where I go, the place is always called "here".

I hope I can settle my internal conflicts without bloodshed.

I feel much better, now that I've given up hope.

The best thing about being too late is that there's no more need to hurry.

Love is a strange commodity, because you can't import it if you don't also export it.

Why does merely attempting to understand Reality so often seem to lead to going insane?