Everything was God, holy; as God is total, so the driftwood branch was holy. This must be the stuff religion is made of.

How to begin the journey? You need only to take the first step. When? There is always now.

At the root of all power and motion, at the burning center of existence itself, there is music and rhythm.

The real juice of life, whether it be sweet or bitter, is to be found not nearly so much in the products of our efforts as in the process of living itself, in how it feels to be alive.

Perhaps the safest prediction we can make about the future is that it will surprise us.

Not to dream more boldly may turn out to be, in view of present realities, simply irresponsible.

For a master, the rewards gained along the way are fine, but they are not the main reason for the journey. Ultimately the master and the master's path are one. And if the traveler is fortunate - that is, if the path is complex and profound enough - the destination is two miles farther away for every mile he or she travels.