“The closer you get to real matter, rock air fire and wood, boy, the more spiritual the world is.”

If you tell a true story, you can’t be wrong.

My life is a vast inconsequential epic.

I was surprised, as always, be how easy the act of leaving was, and how good it felt. The world was suddenly rich with possibility.

Rest and be kind, you don’t have to prove anything

I saw that my life was a vast glowing empty page and I could do anything I wanted.

I petted the dogs who didn’t argue with me ever. All dogs love God. They’re wiser than their masters.

My eyes were glued on life and they were full of tears.

I hope it is true that a man can die and yet not only live in others but give them life, and not only life, but that great consciousness of life.

I want a blaze of light to flame in me forever in a timeless, dear love of everything. And why should I pretend to want anything else?

What’s in store for me in the direction I don’t take?

Contrary to the general belief about photography, you don’t need bright sunlight: the best moodiest pictures are taken in the dim light of almost dusk, or of rainy days.

It’s all too much and not enough at the same time.

Everything is ecstasy inside. We just don’t know it because of our thinking-minds. But in our true blissful essence of mind it is known that everything is alright forever and forever and forever.

So therefore I dedicate myself, to my art, my sleep, my dreams, my labors, my suffrances, my loneliness, my unique madness, my endless absorption and hunger because I cannot dedicate myself to any fellow being.

For life is holy and every moment is precious.

Great things are not accomplished by those who yield to trends and fads and popular opinion.

It is just human nature to take time to connect the dots, I know that. But I also know that there can be a day of reckoning when you wish you had connected the dots more quickly.

Nature has given women so much power that the law has very wisely given them little.

From the Leaves, and Downs, and Beards of Plants, we come at last to the Seeds; and here indeed seems to be the Cabinet of Nature, wherein are laid up its Jewels.”

Spring is poetry poured into nature.

Our true nature is like a precious jewel: although it may be temporarily buried in mud, it remains completely brilliant and unaffected. We simply have to uncover it.

I am by nature a dealer in words, and words are the most powerful drug known to humanity.

I consider nature a vast chemical laboratory in which all kinds of composition and decompositions are formed.

Go to the pine if you want to learn about the pine, or to the bamboo if you want to learn about the bamboo. And in doing so, you must leave your subjective preoccupation with yourself. Otherwise you impose yourself on the object and you do not learn.