The traveler has to knock at every alien door to come to his own, and one has to wander through all the outer worlds to reach the innermost shrine at the end.

We manage to swallow flesh only because we do not think of the cruel and sinful thing that we do. There are many crimes which are the creation of man himself, the wrongfulness of which is put down to their divergence from habit, custom, or tradition. But cruelty is not of these. It is a fundamental sin, and admits of no argument or nice distinctions. If only we do not allow our heart to grow callous, its protest against cruelty is always clearly heard; and yet we go on perpetrating cruelties easily, merrily, all of us - in fact, anyone who does not join in is dubbed a crank.

We sit inert, like dead specimens of some museum, while lessons are pelted at us from on high, like hailstones on flowers.

Languages are jealous sovereigns, and passports are rarely allowed for travellers to cross their strictly guarded borders.

I do not love him because he is good, but because he is my child.

I'm lost in the middle of my birthday. I want my friends, their touch, with the earth's last love. I will take life's final offering, I will take the last human blessing.

when you came you cried and everybody smiled with joy; when you go smile and let the world cry for you.