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.

One must not look inward too much, while the inside is yet tender. I do not wish to frighten myself until I can stand it.

I have a narrative, but you will be put to it to find it.

Only the impossible lasts forever.

Destiny and history are untidy.

A man is whole only when he takes into account his shadow.

Sleep demands of us a guilty immunity.