When I realize that she is gone, perhaps gone forever, a great void opens up and I feel that I am falling, falling, falling into deep, black space. And this is worse than tears, deeper than regret or pain or sorrow, it is the abyss into which Satan was plunged. There is no climbing back, no ray of light, no sound of human voice or human touch of hand.

One of the reasons why so few of us ever act, instead of react, is because we are continually stifling our deepest impulses.

The history of the world is the history of the privileged few.

The City of New York is like an enormous citadel, a modern Carcassonne. Walking between the magnificent skyscrapers one feels the presence on the fringe of a howling, raging mob, a mob with empty bellies, a mob unshaven and in rags.

...the wise man knows that every experience is to be viewed as a blessing.

Every man is working out his destiny in his own way and nobody can be of any help except by being kind, generous, and patient.

To the man whose senses are alive and alert there is not even the need to stir from one's threshold.