I suddenly saw how sad and artificial my life had been during this period, for the loves, friends, habits and pleasures of these years were discarded like badly fitting clothes. I parted from them without pain and all that remained was to wonder that I could have endured them so long.

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

He had loved and he had found himself. Most people love to lose themselves.

How foolish to wear oneself out in vain longing for warmth! Solitude is independence.

But it's a poor fellow who can't take his pleasure without asking other people's permission.

He had thought more than other men, and in matters of the intellect he had that calm objectivity, that certainty of thought and knowledge, such as only really intellectual men have, who have no axe to grind, who never wish to shine, or to talk others down, or to appear always in the right.

I sped through heaven and saw god at work. I suffered holy pains. I dropped all my defenses and was afraid of nothing in the world. I accepted all things and to all things I gave up my heart.