“Everyone is the other and no one is himself.”

We do not have any clear, common and simple relation to reality and to ourselves. That is the big problem of the Western world.

Only he who already understands can listen.

Language is the house of Being.

To dwell is to garden.

The question of existence never gets straightened out except through existing itself.

Everything has always already been said. And yet this “same” possesses, as its inner truth, the inexhaustable wealth of what is on every day as if that day were its first.

Technology is therefore no mere means. Technology is a way of revealing.

The possible ranks higher than the actual.

All the poems of the poet who has entered into his poethood are poems of homecoming.

Nothing is everything that doesn’t happen at this very moment.

To say philosophy originates in wonder means philosophy is wondrous in its essence and becomes more wondrous the more it becomes what it really is.

Language speaks and not the human.

Technology is a mode of revealing. Technology comes to presence in the realm where revealing and unconcealment take place, where aletheia, truth, happens.

To be a poet in a destitute time means: to attend, singing, to the trace of the fugitive gods. This is why the poet in the time of the world’s night utters the holy.

If I take death into my life, acknowledge it, and face it squarely, I will free myself from the anxiety of death and the pettiness of life – and only then will I be free to become myself.

Questioning is the piety of thought.

‘Why are we here?’ I inquired of my body, spirit, and soul. ‘Here to do whatever feels good.’ Said the first. ‘Here to do what feels good.’ Said the second. ‘Here to choose.’ Said the third. ‘Between both.’

Here we are, trapped in the amber of the moment. There is no why.

I slept and dreamt that life was joy. I awoke and saw that life was service. I acted and behold, service was joy.

Falsehood flies, observed Jonathan Swift, and the truth comes limping after it.

I no longer ask humans, for a definition of love. For, they tend to force on her, the traits of those who have either treated them well or not at all.

I am free and that is why I am lost.

A feeling of aversion or attachment toward something is your clue that there’s work to be done.

What I possess, seems far away to me, and what is gone becomes reality.