One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious.
All you hear from guys is desire, desire, desire, knocking its way out of the breast, and fear, striking and striking. Enough already! Time for a word of truth. Time for something notable to be heard. Otherwise, accelerating like a stone, you fall from life to death. Exactly like a stone, straight into deafness, and till the last repeating I want I want I want, then striking the earth and entering it forever!
Each thing is a fairy whose inner treasures are concealed beneath poor commonplace garments, a virgin who has to be loved to become fruitful.
The great function of poetry is to give back to us the situations of our dreams.
“The question is,” said Alice, “whether you can make words mean so many different things.” “The question is,” said Humpty Dumpty, “which is to be master — that’s all.”
To love life through labour is to be intimate with life’s inmost secret.
Marriage is not a matter of creating a quick community of spirit by tearing down and destroying all boundaries, but rather a good marriage is that in which each appoints the other guardian of his solitude. . . . Once the realization is accepted that even between the closest human beings infinite distances continue to exist, a wonderful living side by side can grow up, if they succeed in loving the distance between them no less than one another.
For death remembered should be like a mirror who tells us life’s but breath, to trust it error.
What is more beautiful than a road? It is the symbol and the image of an active, varied life.
Monetary donations to a spiritual cause, contributions of physical labor, involvement with a particular guru, none of these necessarily mean that we have actually committed ourselves to openness. More likely these kinds of commitments are simply ways of proving that we have joined the side of “right.”
Over and above any spring we may know, outside our windows or in our hearts, there is the illimitable sweep of God’s concern for his creation and his creatures; comprehending both suffering and beatitude, and transcending both. No one who has been spared — certainly not I — dare say to the afflicted that they are blessed in their affliction, or dare offer comfort in universal terms for particular griefs. Yet one can dimly see and humbly say that suffering is an integral and essential part of our human drama. That it falls upon one and all in differing degrees and belongs to God’s purpose for us here on earth, so that in the end, all the experience of living has to teach us is to say: Thy will be done. To say it standing before a cross; itself signifying the suffering of God in the person of a Man, and the redemption of a Man in the person of God. The greatest sorrow and the greatest joy co-existing on Golgotha.
Silence makes me nervous cause he doesn’t come or go. He just hangs around with his hands in his pockets.
. . . gateway of being, let me awaken, dawning,/ let me see the countenance of this day,/ let me see the countenance of this night,/ all things communicate and are transfigured,/ arch of blood, gateway of hearts beating,/ take me to the far side of this night,/ where I am you are us, take me to/ the homeland of the interwoven pronouns.
