We were expelled from Paradise, but it was not destroyed. The expulsion from Paradise was in one sense a piece of good fortune, for if we had not been expelled, Paradise would have had to be destroyed.

If something good has lost its way into you, it will make its escape overnight. I know you.

Every word first looks around in every direction before letting itself be written down by me.

The observer of the soul cannot penetrate into the soul, but there doubtless is a margin where he comes into contact with it. Recognition of this contact is the fact that even the soul does not know of itself. Hence it must remain unknown. That would be sad only if there were anything apart from the soul, but there is nothing else.

I lack nothing. I only needed myself.

Don't despair, not even over the fact that you don't despair.

I wanted to escape the unrest, to shut out the voices around me and within me, so I write.