Not in his speech, not in his thoughts, I see his greatness, only in his actions, in his life.

One of the disadwantages of school and learning, he thought dreamily, was that the mind seemed to have the tendency too see and represent all things as though they were flat and had only two dimensions. This, somehow, seemed to render all matters of intellect shallow and worthless.

If you hate a person, you hate something in him that is part of yourself. What isn't part of ourselves doesn't disturb us.

The deity is within you, not in ideas and books. Truth is lived, not taught.

I shall begin my story with an experience I had when I was ten and attended our small town's Latin school.

You will become tired, Siddhartha." "I will become tired." "You will fall asleep, Siddhartha." "I will not fall asleep." "You will die, Siddhartha." "I will die.

...Every ego so far from being a unity is in the highest degree a manifold world, a constellated heaven, a chaos of forms, of states and stages, of inheritances and potentialities. It appears to be a necessity as imperative as eating and breathing for everyone to be forced to regard this chaos as a unity and to speak of his ego as though is was a one-fold and clearly detached and fixed phenomenon. Even the best of us shares this delusion.