Yes, I am going into the woods; I am going into the unity of all things.

One must find the source within one's own Self, one must possess it. Everything else was seeking -- a detour, an error.

A tree has something to say to us: Be still! Be still! Look at me!... Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all.

We must become so alone, so utterly alone, that we withdraw into our innermost self. It is a way of bitter suffering. But then our solitude is overcome, we are no longer alone, for we find that our innermost self is the spirit, that it is God, the indivisible. And suddenly we find ourselves in the midst of the world, yet undisturbed by its multiplicity, for our innermost soul we know ourselves to be one with all being.

The day had gone by just as days go by. I had killed it in accordance with my primitive and retiring way of life.

I have transported many, thousands; and to all of them, my river has been nothing but an obstacle on their travels. They travelled to seek money and business, and for weddings, and on pilgrimages, and the river was obstructing their path, and the ferryman's job was to get them quickly across that obstacle. But for some among thousands, a few, four or five, the river has stopped being an obstacle, they have heard its voice, they have listened to it, and the river has become sacred to them, as it has become sacred to me.

Without words, without writing and without books there would be no history, there could be no concept of humanity.