Never was an age more sentimental, more devoid of real feeling, more exaggerated in false feeling, than our own.
Sleep seems to hammer out for me the logical conclusions of my vague days, and offer them to me as dreams.
A man was like a child with his appetites. A woman had to yield him what he wanted, or like a child he would probably turn nasty and flounce away and spoil what was a very pleasant connection.
I think New Mexico was the greatest experience from the outside world that I have ever had.
We are dying, we are dying, we are all of us dying and nothing will stay the death-flood rising within us and soon it will rise on the world, on the outside world.
The near touch of death may be a release into life; if only it will break the egoistic will, and release that other flow.
An illusion which is a real experience is worth having.
Instead of chopping yourself down to fit the world, chop the world down to fit yourself.
Be careful, then, and be gentle about death. For it is hard to die, it is difficult to go through the door, even when it opens.
I am turned into a dream. I feel nothing, or I don’t know what I feel. Yet it seems to me I am happy.
Any inhibition must be wrong, since inevitably in the end it causes neurosis and insanity.
For to desire is better than to possess, the finality of the end was dreaded as deeply as it was desired.
In my very own self, I am part of my family.
One realm we have never conquered: the pure present.
While we live, let us live.
Can you understand how cruelly I feel the lack of friends who will believe in me a bit?
I do esteem individual liberty above everything.
If I were the moon, I know where I would fall down.
She herself had never been able to be altogether herself: it had been denied her.
Mankind has got to get back to the rhythm of the cosmos.