Sorrows are the rags of old clothes and jackets that serve to cover, and then are taken off. That undressing, and the beautiful naked body underneath, is the sweetness that comes after grief.

On the way there is no harder pass than this: fortunate is he who does not carry envy as a companion.

Yesterday was glory and joy. Today, a blackened burn everywhere. On the record of my life, these two days will be put down as one

You're water. We're the millstone. You're wind. We're dust blown up into shapes. You're spirit. We're the opening and closing of our hands. You're the clarity. We're the language that tries to say it. You're joy. We're all the different kinds of laughing.

You've gotten drunk on so many kinds of wine. Taste this. It won't make you wild. It's fire. Give up, if you don't understand by this time that your living is firewood.

Be relentless in your looking, because you are the one you seek.

He who tastes not, knows not.