For beyond the difficulty of communicating oneself, there is the supreme difficulty of being oneself.

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Life is not a series of gig lamps symmetrically arranged; life is a luminous halo, a semi-transparent envelope surrounding us from the beginning of consciousness to the end.

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Let us simmer over our incalculable cauldron, our enthralling confusion, our hotchpotch of impulses, our perpetual miracle - for the soul throws up wonders every second. Movement and change are the essence of our being; rigidity is death; conformity is death; let us say what comes into our heads, repeat ourselves, contradict ourselves, fling out the wildest nonsense, and follow the most fantastic fancies without caring what the world does or thinks or says. For nothing matters except life.

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I thought how unpleasant it is to be locked out; and I thought how it is worse, perhaps, to be locked in.

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How much better is silence; the coffee cup, the table. How much better to sit by myself like the solitary sea-bird that opens its wings on the stake. Let me sit here for ever with bare things, this coffee cup, this knife, this fork, things in themselves, myself being myself.

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I see you everywhere, in the stars, in the river, to me you're everything that exists; the reality of everything.

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You cannot find peace by avoiding life.

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How many times have people used a pen or paintbrush because they couldn’t pull the trigger?

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I am rooted, but I flow.

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I feel all shadows of the universe multiplied deep inside my skin.

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