“All life was a breath exhaled by God. All dying was a breath inhaled by God.”

I began to understand that suffering and disappointments and melancholy are there not to vex us or cheapen us or deprive us of our dignity but to mature and transfigure us.

The best weapons against the infamies of life are courage, wilfulness and patience. Courage strenthens, wilfulness is fun and patience provides tranquility.

Those who cannot think or take responsibility for themselves need, and clamor for, a leader.

You are only afraid if you are not in harmony with yourself. People are afraid because they have never owned up to themselves.

In every truth, the opposite is equally true. For example, a truth can only be expressed and enveloped in words if it is onesided.

The bird fights its way out of the egg. The egg is the world. Who would be born must first destroy a world. The bird flies to God. The God’s name is Abraxas.

The bourgeois prefers comfort to pleasure, convenience to liberty, and a pleasant temperature to the deathly inner consuming fire.

Passion is always a mystery and unaccountable, and unfortunately there is no doubt that life does not spare its purest children; often it is just the most deserving people who cannot help loving those that destroy them.

Madness, in a higher sense, is the beginning of all wisdom.

There is no reality except the one contained within us. That is why so many people live such an unreal life. They take the images outside them for reality and never allow the world within to assert itself.

The river is everywhere.

Any attempt to replace a personal conscience by a collective conscience does violence to the individual and is the first step toward totalitarianism.

Everything becomes a little different as soon as it is spoken out loud.

He had loved and he had found himself. Most people love to lose themselves.

And all the voices, all the goals, all the yearnings, all the sorrows, all the pleasures, all the good and evil, all of them together was the world. All of them together was the stream of events, the music of life.

Happiness is love, nothing else. A man who is capable of love is happy.

Even if you live forty or fifty years in this world, and then die, you cannot take all your goods with you.

One day I will fall gracefully to pieces. Until then, I’ll just fall.

Death means my present physical costume ends.

To argue with a person who has renounced the use of reason is like administering medicine to the dead.

To Harry Secombe: I hope you die first as I don’t want you singing at my funeral.

I want to live where the clouds touch the sky. I’m told the love their never dies.

Love is like a dying ember, only memories remain.

This is a good day to die. Follow me!