It is no accident that propels people like us to Paris. Paris is simply an artificial stage, a revolving stage that permits the spectator to glimpse all phases of the conflict. Of itself Paris initiates no dramas. They are begun elsewhere. Paris is simply an obstetrical instrument that tears the living embryo from the womb and puts it in the incubator.

We don't trust our five senses; we rely on our critics and educators, all of whom are failures in the realm of creation.

Giving and receiving are at bottom one thing, dependent on whether one lives open or closed. Living openly one becomes a medium, a transmitter; living thus, as a river, one experiences life to the full, flows along with the current of life, and dies in order to live again as an ocean.

All growth is a leap in the dark, a spontaneous unpremeditated act without benefit of experience.

Your nearness is the nearness of planets. I am the void between you. If I withdraw there will be no void for you to swim in.

For there is only one great adventure and that is inward toward the self, and for that, time nor space nor even deeds matter.

There is something else to be said about this immediate, spontaneous way of working, and that is this: in such moments, one is playing at the game of creation.