Each man must have his own special route to lead him to God.

All those who actually live the mysteries of life haven't the time to write, and all those who have the time don't live them! D'you see?

Only after I've seen the visible can I imagine what the invisible is.

If only we know, boss, what the stones and rain and flowers say. Maybe they call-call us-and we don't hear them. When will people's ears open, boss? When shall we have our eyes open to see? When shall we open our arms to embrace everything-stones, rain, flowers, and people? What do you think about that, boss? And what do your books have to say about that?

The truth is that we all are one, that all of us together create god, that god is not man's ancestor, but his descendant.

Ah, if you could dance all that you've just said, then I'd understand.

God changes his appearance every second. Blessed is the man who can recognize him in all his disguises.