What is this self-inside us, this silent observer, severe and speechless critic, who can terrorize us, and urge us onto futile activity, and in the end, judge us still more severely for the errors into which his own reproaches drove us?

Liberty is a different kind of pain from prison.

Not less of love, but expanding Of love beyond desire, and so liberation From the Future as well as the past.

I do not believe that any writer has ever exposed this bovarysme, the human will to see things as they are not, more clearly than Shakespeare.

When the whole world is running headlong towards the precipice, one who walks in the opposite direction is looked at as being crazy.

An election is coming. Universal peace is declared and the foxes have a sincere interest in prolonging the lives of the poultry.

You will find that you survive humiliation. And that's an experience of incalculable value.