To be here is immense.

Live the questions now.

Now for some heartwork.

All things want to float.

You must change your life.

Every angel is terrifying.

In the depths all becomes law.

Our heart always transcends us.

Love the questions, themselves.

The point is to live everything.

Where I create, there I am true.

Space for the Spirit to breathe.

To work is to live without dying.

The only journey is the one within.

Thus we live, forever taking leave.

Truly it is glorious, our being here.

Just keep going - no feeling is final.

What batters you becomes your strength.

Learn to love the questions themselves.

So we are grasped by what we cannot grasp.

Everything is gestation and then birthing.

Truly to sing, that is a different breath.

All professions are... filled with demands.

Works of Art are of an infinite loneliness.

Think... of the world you carry within you.

Beauty is only the start of bearable terror.

To be an artist means not to compute or count.

All the soarings of my mind begin in my blood.

Life is heavier than the weight of all things.

I believe in all that has never yet been spoken.

Life + a cat ... adds up to an incalculable sum.

Wishes are recollections coming from the future.

Go on loving what is good, simple, and ordinary.

Resolve to be always beginning-to be a beginner!

I implore those who love me to love my solitude.

Life - a sexually transmitted terminal condition.

More belongs to marriage than four legs in a bed.

Swells, Marina? we ocean, depths, Marina? we sky!

Of all my books, I find only a few indispensible.

Strangely, I heard a stranger say, I am with you.

There is only one journey. Going inside yourself.

The future must enter you long before it happens.

We ignore the gods and fill our minds with trash.

I believe that nothing that is real can pass away.

I am touched by your beautiful anxiety about life.

Who speaks of conquering? To endure is everything.

True singing is a different breath, about nothing.

The hero is strangely akin to those who die young.

Is not impermanence the very fragrance of our days?

Everything terrible is something that needs our love.

Share This Page