The role of the artist I now understood as that of revealing through the world-surfaces the implicit forms of the soul, and the great agent to assist the artist was the myth.

We are kept out of the Garden by our own fear and desire in relation to what we think to be the goods of our life.

I think the person who takes a job in order to live - that is to say, for the money - has turned himself into a slave.

What gods are there, what gods have there ever been, that were not from man's imagination?

Any god who can invent hell is no candidate for the Salvation Army

Myth is the secret opening through which the inexhaustible energies of the cosmos pour into human manifestation.

Love is the burning point of life, and since all life is sorrowful, so is love. The stronger the love, the more the pain. Love itself is pain, you might say -the pain of being truly alive.