“Genius is what a man invents when he is looking for a way out.”

All men are Prophets or else God does not exist.

To think new thoughts you have to break the bones in your head.

Nothingness lies coiled in the heart of being – like a worm.

I have no religion, but if I were to choose one, it would be that of Shariati’s.

I’d come to realize that all our troubles spring from our failure to use plain, clear-cut language.

What is there to fear in such a regular world?

People who live in society have learnt how to see themselves, in mirrors, as they appear to their friends. I have no friends: is that why my flesh is so naked?

What is important is not what happens to us, but how we respond to what happens to us.

Being is. Being is in-itself. Being is what it is.

My eyes feel all soft, all soft as flesh. I’m going to sleep.

I suppose it is out of laziness that the world is the same day after day. Today it seemed to want to change. And then anything, anything could happen.

Everything has been figured out, except how to live.

Better to die on one’s feet than to live on one’s knees.

One could only damage oneself through the harm one did to others. One could never get directly at oneself.

You must be like me; you must suffer in rhythm.

People are like dice. We throw ourselves in the direction of our own choosing.

Reading has always been my sweetest escape, but I write to convey that which I want to escape or what scares me to say, even if it’s something positive.

I escaped the voice of darkness that was as pervasive as the silence that has come to replace all the words you had misplaced.

As soon as you know you are in prison, you have a possibility to escape.

We possess our body by chance and we are already pleased with it. If our physical bodies went through ten thousand transformations without end, how incomparable would this joy be! Therefore the sage roams freely in the realm in which nothing can escape, but all endures.

The human face is as strange to me as a countenance, which, the more one looks at it, the more it closes itself off and escapes by the steps of unknown stairways.

Desperation is the raw material of drastic change. Only those who can leave behind everything they have ever believed in can hope to escape.

Yet the order of the acts is planned And the end of the way inescapable. I am alone; all drowns in the Pharisees’ hypocrisy.

Cosmic reveries separate us from project reveries. They situate us in a world and not in a society. The cosmic reverie possesses a sort of stability or tranquility. It helps us escape time. It is a state.