We all have wings, but they have not been of any avail to us and if we could tear them off, we would do so.

it was like this. the brain could no longer bear the worries and pains that were imposed on it. it said: "i'm giving up; but if there is anyone else here who is interested in preserving the whole, let him assume part of my burden and it will be alright for a bit.

But what if all the tranquility, all the comfort, all the contentment were now to come to a horrifying end?

A book should serve as an axe to the ice inside us.

From outside one will always triumphantly impress theories upon the world and then fall straight into the ditch one has dug, but only from inside will one keep oneself and the world quiet and true.

Self-control means wanting to be effective at some random point in the infinite radiations of my spiritual existence.

We are separated from God on two sides; the Fall separates us from Him, the Tree of Life separates Him from us.