To die is to go into the Collective Unconscious, to lose oneself in order to be transformed into form, pure form.

Knowledge can be communicated, but not wisdom.

You show the world as a complete, unbroken chain, an eternal chain, linked together by cause and effect.

One cannot apologize for something fundamental, and a child feels and knows this as well and as deeply as any sage.

Every path leads homeward, every step is birth, every step is death, every grave is mother.

Because the world is so full of death and horror, I try again and again to console my heart and pick the flowers that grow in the midst of hell.

What I am in search of is not so much the gratification of a curiosity or a passion for worldly life, but something far less conditional. I do not wish to go out into the world with an insurance policy in my pocket guaranteeing my return in the event of a disappointment, like some cautious traveller who would be content with a brief glimpse of the world. On the contrary, I desire that there should be hazards, difficulties and dangers to face; I am hungry for reality, for tasks and deeds, and also for privation and suffering.