Every man is born as many men and dies as a single one.

The relationship between man and space is none other than dwelling, strictly thought and spoken.

Every man is born as many men and dies as a single one.

In no way can it be uttered, as can other things, which one can learn. Rather, from out of a full, co-existential dwelling with the thing itself - as when a spark, leaping from the fire, flares into light - so it happens, suddenly, in the soul, there to grow, alone with itself.

If I take death into my life, acknowledge it, and face it squarely, I will free myself from the anxiety of death and the pettiness of life - and only then will I be free to become myself.

How one encounters reality is a choice.

There is no such thing as an empty word, only one that is worn out yet remains full.