The highest form of love is to be the protector of another person’s solitude.

Let everything happen to you Beauty and terror Just keep going No feeling is final

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

The only journey is the one within.

Go on loving what is good, simple, and ordinary.

But because truly being here is so much; because everything here apparently needs us, this fleeting world, which in some strange way keeps calling to us. Us, the most fleeting of all.

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.