I could give you no advice but this: to go into yourself and to explore the depths where your life wells forth.

So this is where people come to live; I would have thought it is a city to die in.

Only those sadnesses are dangerous and bad which one carries about among people in order to drown them out.

Interior of the hand. Sole that has come to walk only on feelings. That faces upward and in its mirror receives heavenly roads, which travel along themselves. That has learned to walk upon water when it scoops, that walks upon wells, transfiguring every path. That steps into other hands, changes those that are like it into a landscape: wanders and arrives within them, fills them with arrival.

Be ahead of all parting, as though it already were behind you, like the winter that has just gone by. For among these winters there is one so endlessly winter that only by wintering through it will your heart survive.

That’s love: Two lonely persons keep each other safe and touch each other and talk to each other.

A billion stars go spinning through the night, / glittering above your head, / But in you is the presence that will be / when all the stars are dead.