But one had to go back to the beginning of things, always. Trace the thread of life - find the knot - untangle it.

Religion is passionate, reckless, destructive, idol-smashing. It's a martyr burning at the stake. It's a crown of thorns and a cross.

Time, designing slowly, swiftly; Time, destroying slowly, swiftly; Time holding, possessing the earth in its tender indifference.

Time passed so much more slowly than space.

The lush green of the fields became a rich gold that swayed sturdily under the wind and fell at last before the hands of the reapers.

Growing old was simply a process of drawing closer to that ultimate independence called death.

There is too much doing - too little being! When we begin to get strenuous, life begins to grow intolerable.