The near touch of death may be a release into life; if only it will break the egoistic will, and release that other flow.

The world is wonderful and beautiful and good beyond one's wildest imagination. Never, never, never could one conceive what love is, beforehand, never. Life can be great-quite god-like. It can be so. God be thanked I have proved it.

When love turns into dust, money becomes the substitution.

I love you, rotten, Delicious rottenness. ...wonderful are the hellish experiences, Orphic, delicate Dionysos of the Underworld.

If only I am keen and hard like the sheer tip of a wedge Driven by invisible blows, The rock will split, we shall come at the wonder, we shall find the Hesperides.

Only this shimmeriness is the real living. The shape is a dead crust. The shimmer is inside really.

Life is ours to be spent, not to be saved.