“Your sacred space is where you can find yourself again and again.”

What we are really living for is the experience of life, both the pain and the pleasure.

The best things cannot be told, the second best are misunderstood. After that comes civilized conversation; after that, mass indoctrination; after that, intercultural exchange.

The goal of life is to make your heartbeat match the beat of the universe, to match your nature with Nature.

The big question is whether you are going to be able to say a hearty yes to your adventure.

Survival is the second law of life. The first is that we are all one.

If you are on the right path you will find that invisible hands are helping.

A hero ventures forth from the world of common day into a region of supernatural wonder. Fabulous forces are there encountered and a decisive victory is won.

Midlife is when you reach the top of the ladder and find that it was against the wrong wall.

You have to learn to recognize your own depth.

You’ve got to find the force inside you.

If the path before you is clear, you’re probably on someone else’s.

The psychotic drowns in the same waters in which the mystic swims with delight.

People forget facts, but they remember stories.

The quest for fire occurred not because anyone knew what the practical uses for fire would be, but because it was fascinating.

The old skin has to be shed before the new one can come.

The ultimate aim of the quest must be neither release nor ecstasy for oneself, but the wisdom and the power to serve others.

Everything sacred, nothing sacred.

There are four questions of value in life, Don Octavio. What is sacred? Of what is the spirit made? What is worth living for and what is worth dying for? The answer to each is the same. Only love.

The sacred formula of positivism: love as a principle, the order as a foundation, and progress as a goal.

People need a sacred narrative. They must have a sense of larger purpose, in one form or another, however intellectualized. They will find a way to keep ancestral spirits alive.

Love is a sacred reserve of energy; it is like the blood of spiritual evolution.

Woman is sacred; the woman one loves is holy.

I want you to remember my lips beneath your fingers and how you told me things you never told another soul. I want you to know that I have kept sacred, everything you had entrusted in me and I always will.

That’s the thing about writers – on one hand everything is sacred to them, but, on the other, nothing really is.