And you should not let yourself be confused in your solitude by the fact that there is something in you that wants to move out of it.

Look: the trees exist; the houses we dwell in stand there stalwartly. Only we pass by it all, like a rush of air. And everything conspires to keep quiet about us, half out of shame perhaps, half out of some secret hope.

Take your well-disciplined strengths, stretch them between the two great opposing poles, because inside human beings is where God learns.

Across the moment, aeons speak with aeons. More than we experienced has gone by.

It was not in me It came and went I wanted to hold it It was held by wine (I no longer know what it was)

Winning does not tempt that man. This is how he grows: by being defeated, decisively, by constantly greater beings.

Only the individual who is solitary is like a thing placed under profound laws, and when he goes out into the morning that is just beginning, or looks out into the evening that is full of happening, and if he feels what is going on there, then all status drops from him as from a dead man, though he stands in the midst of sheer life.