You darkness, that I come from, I love you more than all the fires that fence in the world.

Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.

Who has not sat before his own heart's curtain? It lifts: and the scenery is falling apart.

Some day when I lose you, will you still be able to sleep, without me to whisper over you like a crown of linden branches?

Love is like the measles. The older you get it, the worse the attack.

Be-and yet know the great void where all things begin, the infinite source of your own most intense vibration, so that, this once, you may give it your perfect assent.

How can I keep my soul in me, so that it doesn't touch your soul? How can I raise it high enough, past you, to other things?