Most of our difficulties come from losing contact with our instincts, with the age-old forgotten wisdom stored up in us.

Art is a kind of innate drive that seizes a human being and makes him its instrument.

The more uncertain I have felt about myself, the more there has grown up in me a feeling of kinship with all things.

The unconscious wants to flow into consciousness in order to reach the light, but at the same time it continually thwarts itself, because it would rather remain unconscious. That is to say, God wants to become man, but not quite.

Remember that the only God man comes in contact with is his own God, called Spirit, Soul and Mind, or Consciousness, and these three are one.

From the middle of life onward, only he remains vitally alive who is ready to die with life.

I have never since entirely freed myself of the impression that this life is a segment of existence which is enacted in a three-dimensional boxlike universe especially set up for it.