Language is the house of the truth of Being.

The word "art" does not designate the concept of a mere eventuality; it is a concept of rank.

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.

A giving which gives only its gift, but in the giving holds itself back and withdraws, such a giving we call sending.

True time is four-dimensional.

How one encounters reality is a choice.

Everyone is the other and no one is himself.