Suppose we suddenly wake up and see that what we thought to be this and that, ain't this and that at all?

Ah, if I could realize, if I could forget myself and devote my meditations to the freeing, the awakening and the blessedness of all living creatures everywhere I'd realize what there is, is ecstasy.

Pretty girls make graves

Some of my most neurotically fierce bitterness is the result of realizing how untrue people have become.

What does it mean that I am in this endless universe, thinking that I'm a man sitting under the stars on the terrace of the earth, but actually empty and awake throughout the emptiness and awakedness of everything? It means that I'm empty and awake, that I know I'm empty and awake, and that there's no difference between me and anything else.

It always makes me proud to love the world somehow- hate's so easy compared.

So I rushed past the pretty girls, and the prettiest girls in the world live in Des Moines.