To think is to be sick.
The unendurable is the beginning of the curve of joy.
Time is a great conference planning our end, and youth is only the past putting a leg forward.
When one wants to become cognizant of the color and the texture of the soil, one does not get a ladder; one gets a shovel. When one wants to get into touch with the texture of the universal mind, one does not go to Boston; one goes to the Bowery.
Life, the permission to know death.
None of us suffers as much as we should, or loves as much as we say. Love is the first lie; wisdom the last.