Fame, that public destruction of one in process of becoming, into whose building-ground the mob breaks, displacing his stones.

Someday you will name me, then gently place those burning holy roses in my hair.

No experience has been too unimportant, and the smallest event unfolds like a fate, and fate itself is like a wonderful, wide fabric in which every thread is guided by an infinitely tender hand and laid alongside another thread and is held and supported by a hundred others

The only sadnesses that are dangerous and unhealthy are the ones that we carry around in public in order to drown them out with the noise.

I know of no other advice than this: Go within and scale the depths of your being from which your very life springs forth.

I want to unfold. Let no place in me hold itself closed, for where I am closed, I am false.

Life + a cat ... adds up to an incalculable sum.