I am a weak, ephemeral creature made of mud and dream. But I feel all the powers of the universe whirling within me.

The heart unites whatever the mind separates, pushes on beyond the arena of necessity and transmutes the struggle into love.

With the world in the state it is today, whoever is virtuous must be so to the point of sainthood, and even beyond; whoever is a sinner must be so to the point of bestiality and even beyond. Today the middle road is no more.

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?

As long as there are flowers and children and birds in the world, have no fears: everything will be fine.

You do miracles if you concentrate your mind on one thing and one thing only.

Everything in this world has a hidden meaning.