What strange beings we are! That sitting in hell at the bottom of the dark, we're afraid of our own immortality.

Bring the pure wine of love and freedom. But sir, a tornado is coming. More wine, we'll teach this storm A thing or two about whirling.

Sell your cleverness and buy bewilderment.

The friend who knows a lot more than you do will bring difficulties, and grief, and sickness, as medicine, as happiness, as the essence of the moment when you're beaten when you hear Checkmate, and can finally say, I trust you to kill me.

Revile those who flatter you.

Let the waters settle and you will see the moon and the stars mirrored in your own being.

I cannot stop asking. If I could taste one sip of an answer, I could break out of this prison for drunks.