We make a space inside ourselves, so that being can speak.

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.

Thinking begins only when we have come to know that reason, glorified for centuries, is the stiff-necked adversary of thought.

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

Why are there beings at all instead of nothing? That is the question. Presumably it is not arbitrary question, "Why are there beings at all instead of nothing"- this is obviously the first of all questions. Of course it is not the first question in the chronological sense [...] And yet, we are each touched once, maybe even every now and then, by the concealed power of this question, without properly grasping what is happening to us. In great despair, for example, when all weight tends to dwindle away from things and the sense of things grows dark, the question looms.

Transcendence constitutes selfhood.

The human being is not the lord of beings, but the shepherd of Being.