But what really matters is not what you believe but the faith and conviction with which you believe.

There was a rock in front of my hut, a tall, gray rock. By its looks it seemed to be well-disposed toward me.

In my solitude, many miles from men and houses, I am in a childishly happy and carefree state of mind, which you are incapable of understanding unless someone explains it to you

But things worked out. Everything works out. Though sometimes they work out sideways.

Small jerks began to appear in my legs, my walk became unsteady precisely because I wanted it to be smooth.

I suffered no pain, my hunger had taken the edge off; instead I felt pleasantly empty, untouched by everything around me and happy to be unseen by all. I put my legs up on the bench and leaned back, the best way to feel the true well-being of seclusion. There wasn't a cloud in my mind, nor did I feel any discomfort, and I hadn't a single unfulfilled desire or craving as far as my thought could reach. I lay with open eyes in a state of utter absence from myself and felt deliciously out of it.

No, I don't admire the genius. But I admire and love the result of the genius's activity in the world, of which the great man is only the poor necessary tool, only, so to speak, the paltry awl to bore with.