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

We make our way through Everything like thread passing through fabric, giving shape to images that we ourselves do not know.

As the arrow endures the string, and in the gathering momentum becomes more than itself. Because to stay is to be nowhere.

I don't want to stay folded anywhere, because where I am folded, there I am a lie.

Trees do not force their sap, nor does the flower push its bloom.

A work of art is good if it has arisen out of necessity. That is the only way one can judge it.

What is necessary, after all, is only this: solitude, vast inner solitude. To walk inside yourself and meet no one for hours-that is what you must be able to attain. To be solitary as you were when you were a child.