On the stage it is always now; the personages are standing on that razor-edge, between the past and the future, which is the essential character of conscious being.

Without your wounds where would your power be? It is your melancholy that makes your low voice tremble into the hearts of men and women. The very angels themselves cannot persuade the wretched and blundering children on earth as can one human being broken on the wheels of living. In Love’s service, only wounded soldiers can serve. Physician, draw back.

In advertising, not to be different is virtual suicide.

Throughout the hours of the night, though there had been few to hear it, the whole sky had been loud with the singing of these constellations.

On the stage it is always now; the personages are standing on that razor-edge, between the past and the future, which is the essential character of conscious being.

But soon we shall die and all memory of those five will have left the earth, and we ourselves shall be loved for a while and forgotten. But the love will have been enough; all those impulses of love return to the love that made them. Even memory is not necessary for love. There is a land of the living and a land of the dead and the bridge is love, the only survival, the only meaning.

The planting of trees is the least self-centered of all that we can do. It is a purer act of faith than the procreation of children.