One Is Honest About Oneself Either With

Rendering Oneself Unarmed When One Had Been The Best-armed, Out Of A Height Of Feeling-that Is The Means To Real Peace, Which Must Always Rest On A Peace Of Mind.

With Sturdy Shoulders, Space Stands Opposing All Its Weight To Nothingness. Where Space Is, There Is Being.

I Overcame Myself, The Sufferer; I Carried My Own Ashes To The Mountains; I Invented A Brighter Flame For Myself.

Then Is What You See Through This Window Onto The World So Lovely That You Have No Desire Whatsoever To Look Out Through Any Other Window, And That You Even Make An Attempt To Prevent Others From Doing So?

Of All Writings I Love Only That Which Is Written With Blood. Write With Blood: And You Will Discover That Blood Is Spirit.