Everything touches everything.

A system is nothing more than the subordination of all aspects of the universe to any one of such aspects.

I am not sure of anything, I know nothing . . . can you imagine that I don't even know the date of my own death?

There is an hour of the afternoon when the plain is on the verge of saying something. It never says, or perhaps it says it infinitely, or perhaps we do not understand it, or we understand it and it is untranslatable as music.

God must not engage in theology. The writer must not destroy by human reasonings the faith that art requires of us.

You have wakened not out of sleep, but into a prior dream, and that dream lies within another, and so on, to infinity, which is the number of grains of sand. The path that you are to take is endless, and you will die before you have truly awakened.

Everything touches everything.