Where I create, there I am true.
No one can advise and help you, no one. There is only one way: go within.
I love the dark hours of my being. My mind deepens into them. There I can find, as in old letters, the days of my life, already lived, and held like a legend, and understood.
More belongs to marriage than four legs in a bed.
the knowledge of impermanence that haunts our days is their very fragrance.
And yet, for some time now I have believed that it is our own force, all our own force that is still too great for us. It is true we do not know it; but is it not just that which is most our own of which we know the least?