The world is not comprehensible, but it is embraceable: through the embracing of one of its beings.
Feeling one "has"; love occurs.
It is not the nature of the task, but its consecration, that is the vital thing.
All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveller is unaware.
A human being becomes whole not in virtue of a relation to himself [only] but rather in virtue of an authentic relation to another human being(s).
I do, indeed, close my door at times and surrender myself to a book, but only because I can open the door again and see a human face looking at me.