Here and there in the ancient literature we encounter legends of wise and mysterious games that were conceived and played by scholars, monks, or the courtiers of cultured princes. These might take the form of chess games in which the pieces and squares had secret meanings in addition to their usual functions.

Every experience has its element of magic.

When the suffering becomes acute enough, one goes forward.

Deeply, he felt the love for the run-away in his heart, like a wound, and he felt at the same time that this wound had not been given to him in order to turn the knife in it, that it had to become a blossom and had to shine. That this wound did not blossom yet, did not shine yet, at this hour, made him sad. Instead of the desired goal, which had drawn him here following the runaway son, there was now emptiness.

The opposite of every truth is just as true.

...and the vessel was not full, his intellect was not satisfied, his soul was not at peace, his heart was not still.

Within you there is a stillness and sanctuary to which you can retreat at any time and be yourself