Siddhartha stopped fighting his fate this very hour, and he stopped suffering.

To nobody can you communicate in words and teachings, what happened to you in your hour of enlightenment.

The world, Govinda my friend, is not imperfect, not to be seen as on a slow path toward perfection: No, it is perfect in every moment, all transgression already bears grace within itself, all little children already have the aged in themselves, all the sucklings death, all the dying eternal life.

How beautiful the world was when one looked at it, without searching... just looked, simply and innocently.

In Germany I have been acknowledged again since the fall of Hitler, but my works, partly suppressed by the Nazis and partly destroyed by the war; have not yet been republished there.

A mere nothing suffices — and the lightning strikes.

Knowledge can be communicated, but not wisdom. One can find it, live it, be fortified by it, do wonders through it, but one cannot communicate and teach it.