We are too connected. There's noise in our heads all the time.

When love exists, nothing else matters, not life’s predicaments, not the fury of the years, not a physical winding down or scarcity of opportunity.

He was not oppressed by a crowd because in the midst of all the hullabaloo he always found a quiet place for his soul.

I'm not above anybody. I'm, I'm not better than anybody. I am made of the same material that everybody else is and if somebody can be a saint, so can I and if somebody can be a torturer, so can I.

Writing is a constant exercise in longing.

The slave who dances is free ... while he is dancing.

Everyone in his place and a place for everyone.