A Child. . . Opens And Closes

There Can Be No Creator, Simply Because His Grief At The Fate Of His Creation Would Be Inconceivable And Unendurable.

His Head Is Made Of Stars, But Not Yet Arranged Into Constellations.

The Self-explorer, Whether He Wants To Or Not, Becomes The Explorer Of Everything Else.

One Should Not Confuse The Craving For Life With Endorsement Of It.

Whenever You Observe An Animal Closely, You Feel As If A Human Being Sitting Inside Were Making Fun Of You.