She imagined herself both queen and slave, dominatrix and victim. In her imagination she was making love with men of all skin colors--white, black, yellow--with homosexuals and beggars. She was anyone's, and anyone could do anything to her. She had one, two, three orgasms, one after another. She imagined everything she had never imagined before, and she gave herself to all that was most base and most pure.

When we are walking our chosen path, we walk elegantly, emanating light.

This is for you,' he (the Alchemist) said, holding one of the parts (of gold) out to the monk. 'It's for your generosity to the pilgrims.' 'But this payment goes well beyond my generosity,' the monk responded. 'Don't say that again. Life might be listening, and give you less the next time.

You need to change yourself. The moment that you change yourself it is a gigantic step. And this is what I do. The book is much more important than the writer.

Whenever a religion tightens it's rules, a significant number of people break away and go in search of more freedom in their search for spiritual contact.

The darkest hour was just before dawn.

When you know that language, it's easy to believe that someone in the world awaits you, whether it's in the middle of the desert or in some great city... without such love, one's dreams would have no meaning.