You've seen the world, and all you've seen is nothing; and everything, as well, that you have said and heard is nothing. You've sprinted everywhere between here and the horizon; it is nothing. And all the possessions you've treasured up at home are nothing.

Hearts are like tapers, which at beauteous eyes Kindle a flame of love that never dies; And beauty is a flame, where hearts, like moths, Offer themselves a burning sacrifice.

Myself when young did eagerly frequent doctor and saint, and heard great argument about it and about: but evermore came out by the same door as in I went.

To be free of belief and unbelief is my religion.

I can’t reveal the mystery to either saint or sinner; I can’t state at length what I’ve said curtly; I achieve an altered state that I can’t explain; I have a secret that I cannot share.

Oh, the brave Music of a distant drum!

When I want to understand what is happening today or try to decide what will happen tomorrow, I look back.