Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems.

Perhaps then, some day far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.

Don't be too quick to draw conclusions from what happens to you; simply let it happen. Otherwise it will be too easy for you to look with blame... at your past, which naturally has a share with everything that now meets you.

Never has grief been possessed, never has love been learned, and what removes us in death is not revealed.

It is possible I am pushing through solid rock, like the vein of ore encased, alone. I am such a long way in I can see no way through and no space. Everything is close to my face and everything close to my face is stone. I don't have much knowledge yet in grief, so this darkness makes me feel small. You, be the Master; Make yourself fierce; break in. And then your great transforming will happen to me And my great grief cry will happen to you.

One had to take some action against fear when once it laid hold of one.

Perhaps everything terrifying is deep down a helpless thing that needs our help.