We are unutterably alone essentially, especially in the things most intimate and most important.

There are no classes in life for beginners; right away you are always asked to deal with what is most difficult.

Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems.

My eyes already touch the sunny hill. Going far ahead of the road I have begun. So we are grasped by what we cannot grasp; it has inner light, even from a distance- and charges us, even if we do not reach it, into something else, which, hardly sensing it, we already are; a gesture waves us on answering our own wave... but what we feel is the wind in our faces.

All this hurrying soon will be over. Only when we tarry do we touch the holy.

The future must enter you long before it happens.

A billion stars go spinning through the night, / glittering above your head, / But in you is the presence that will be / when all the stars are dead.