We make our way through Everything like thread passing through fabric, giving shape to images that we ourselves do not know.

You, God, who live next door - If at times, through the long night, I trouble you with my urgent knocking - this is why: I hear you breathe so seldom. I know you're all alone in that room. If you should be thirsty, there's no one to get you a glass of water. I wait listening, always. Just give me a sign! I'm right here... Sen komşu tanrı, Uzun geceler bazen, Kapına vura vura uyandırıyorsam seni Solumanı seyrek duyduğumdandır... Bilirim, yalnızsın odanda. Sana birşey gerekse kimse yok, Bir yudum su versin aradığında. Hep dinlerim, yeter ki bir ses edin, Öyle yakınım sana.

Draw near to Nature. Then try like some first human being to say what you see and experience and love and lose.

He reproduced himself with so much humble objectivity, with the unquestioning, matter of fact interest of a dog who sees himself in a mirror and thinks: there's another dog.

There is time only to work slowly There is no time not to love

Your life will still find its own paths from there, and that they may be good, rich, and wide is what I wish for you, more than I can say.

Is not impermanence the very fragrance of our days?