If your everyday life appears to be unworthy subject matter, do not complain to life. Complain to yourself, Lament that you are not poet enough to call up its wealth.

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

Since I've learned to be silent, everything has come so much closer to me.

I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone enough

We ignore the gods and fill our minds with trash.

Religion is something infinitely simple, ingenuous. It is not knowledge, not content of feeling... it is not duty and not renunciation, it is not restriction: but in the infinite extent of the universe it is a direction of the heart.

But there is much beauty here, because there is much beauty everywhere.