If you would behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life. For life and death are one, even as the river and sea are one.
All men love you for themselves. I love you for yourself.
How often have you sailed in my dreams. And now you come in my awakening, which is my deeper dream.
Only those beneath me can envy or hate me. I have never been envied nor hated; I am above no one. Only those above me can praise or belittle me. I have never been praised nor belittled; I am below no one.
Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing. And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb. And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.
And let to-day embrace the past with remembrance and the future with longing.
We wanderers, ever seeking the lonelier way, begin no day where we have ended another day; and no sunrise finds us where sunset left us.
Defeat, my defeat, my deathless courage, You and I shall laugh together with the storm, And together we shall dig graves for all that die in us, and we shall stand in the sun with a will, And we shall be dangerous.
A traveler I am, and a navigator, and every day I discover a new region within my soul.
These things he said in words. But much in his heart remained unsaid. For he himself could not speak his deeper secret.
Seven times have I despised my soul: The sixth time when she despised the ugliness of a face, and knew not that it was one of her own masks.
And is not time even as love is, undivided and paceless?
When you have grasped a problem clearly, face it with resolution, for that is the way of the strong.
Am I a harp that the hand of the mighty may touch me, or a flute that his breath may pass through me? A seeker of silences am I, and what treasure have I found in silences that I may dispense with confidence?
Art is a step in the known toward the unknown.
All things in this vast universe exist in you, with you, and for you.
A look which reveals inward stress adds more beauty to the face, no matter how much tragedy and pain it bespeaks; but the face which, in silence, does not announce hidden mysteries is not beautiful, regardless of the symmetry of its features.
The significance of a man is not in what he attains, but rather what he longs to attain.
You progress not through what has been done, but reaching towards what has yet to be done.
The lights of stars that were extinguished ages ago still reaches us. So it is with great men who died centuries ago, but still reach us with the radiations of their personalities.