Your preparation for the real world is not in the answers you’ve learned, but in the questions you’ve learned how to ask yourself.

True singing is a different breath, about nothing.

Whoever you are, go out into the evening, leaving your room, of which you know every bit; your house is the last before the infinite, whoever you are.

And these things that keep alive on departure know that you praise them; transient, they look to us, the most transient, to be their rescue. They want us to change them completely, in our invisible hearts, into -- O endlessly -- us! Whoever, finally, we may be.

He reproduced himself with so much humble objectivity, with the unquestioning, matter of fact interest of a dog who sees himself in a mirror and thinks: there's another dog.

There is only one journey. Going inside yourself.

What we do battle with is so small, what battles us is so large.