Every door is another passage, another boundary we have to go beyond.

You are an ocean in a drop of dew, all the universes in a thin sack of blood. What are these pleasures then, these joys, these worlds that you keep reaching for, hoping they will make you more alive?

That which is false troubles the heart, but truth brings joyous tranquility.

There is no worse sickness for the soul, o you who are proud, than this pretense of perfection.

No sickness worse than imagining thyself to be perfect can afflict thy soul.

This is the essence of all sciences - that you should know who you will be when the Day of Reckoning arrives.

Be empty of worrying. Think of who created thought! Why do you stay in prison When the door is so wide open?