I don’t want to stand before you like a thing, shrewd, secretive. I want my own will, and I want simply to be with my will, as it goes toward action. And in the silent, sometimes hardly moving times, when something is coming near, I want to be with those who know secret things or else alone. I want to unfold. I don’t want to be folded anywhere, because where I am folded, there I am a lie.

There are moments in which a rose is more important than a piece of bread

What do the contours of your body mean, laid out like the lines on a hand, so that I no longer see them except as fate?

This is in the end the only kind of courage that is required of us: the courage to face the strangest, most unusual, most inexplicable experiences that can meet us.

Perhaps creating something is nothing but an act of profound remembrance.

I live my life in widening circles that reach out across the world.

Let everything happen to you Beauty and terror Just keep going No feeling is final