Roaring dreams take place in a perfectly silent mind. Now that we know this, throw the raft away.
I’m writing this book because we’re all going to die.
The beauty of things must be that they end.
Pain or love or danger makes you real again...
As I grew older I became a drunk. Why? Because I like ecstasy of the mind.
The bus roared on. I was going home in October. Everybody goes home in October.
Return those shoes to the shoemaker Return this hand to my father This pillow to the pillowmaker Those slippers to the shop. That wainscot to the carpenter, But my mind my tranquil and eternal Mind Return it to whom?
Swinging on delicate hinges the autumn leaf almost off the stem.
And when the fog’s over and the stars and the moon come out at night it’ll be a beautiful sight.
When you’ve understood this scripture, throw it away. If you can’t understand this scripture, throw it away. I insist on your freedom.
Life must be rich and full of loving – it’s no good otherwise, no good at all, for anyone.
Something good will come of all things yet.
The taste of rain – Why kneel?
I’ll go to the south of Sicily in the winter, and paint memories of Arles – I’ll buy a piano and Mozart me that – I’ll write long sad tales about people in the legend of my life – This part is my part of the movie, let’s hear yours.
Jumping from boulder to boulder and never falling, with a heavy pack, is easier than it sounds; you just can’t fall when you get into the rhythm of the dance.
What’s in store for me in the direction I don’t take?
The page is long, blank, and full of truth. When I am through with it, it shall probably be long, full, and empty with words.
Believe in the holy contour of life.
The road must eventually lead to the whole world.
Something that you feel will find its own form.