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.

How can I keep my soul in me, so that it doesn't touch your soul? How can I raise it high enough, past you, to other things?

We need, in love, to practice only this: letting each other go. For holding on comes easily; we do not need to learn it.

What we fight with is so small, and when we win, it makes us small. What we want is to be defeated, decisively, by successively greater things

My eyes already touch the sunny hill. Going far ahead of the road I have begun. So we are grasped by what we cannot grasp; it has inner light, even from a distance- and charges us, even if we do not reach it, into something else, which, hardly sensing it, we already are; a gesture waves us on answering our own wave... but what we feel is the wind in our faces.

Perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us act, just once, with beauty and courage. Perhaps everything that frightens us is, in its deepest essence, something helpless that wants our love.

Fame is the sum of the misunderstanding that gathers about a new name.