The fear for oneself, that one can do something about. Upon it one can turn the light of awareness. But when one is no longer worrying about oneself, then the fear comes for other people and, after that, for the world. There are no fearless people, only fearless moments.

I don't fall in love anymore. Just like I don't get the mumps.

Whining is a virus, a lethal, infectious, epidemic disease.

There is one way to understand another culture. Living it. Move into it, ask to be tolerated as a guest, learn the language.

The great systems that inform the world about the truth and life invariably claim to be absolutely truthful and well-balanced. In reality they are quaking bridges built out of yearning.

Confronted with people who have power, and who enjoy using it, I turn into a different person, a baser and meaner one.

He boils milk with fresh ginger, a quarter of a vanilla bean, and tea that is so dark and fine-leaved that it looks like black dust. He strains it and puts cane sugar in both our cups. There's something euphorically invigorating and yet filling about it. It tastes the way I imagine the Far East must taste.