We are not allowed to linger, even with what is most intimate.
It is clear that we must embrace struggle. Every living thing conforms to it. Everything in nature grows and struggles in its own way, establishing its own identity, insisting on it at all cost, against all resistance.
Perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us act, just once, with beauty and courage. Perhaps everything that frightens us is, in its deepest essence, something helpless that wants our love.
Perhaps creating something is nothing but an act of profound remembrance.
Ah, how good it is to be among people who are reading!
The work of the eyes is done. Go now and do the heart-work on the images imprisoned within you.
But your solitude will be a support and a home for you, even in the midst of very unfamiliar circumstances, and from it you will find all your paths.
Make your ego porous. Will is of little importance, complaining is nothing, fame is nothing. Openness, patience, receptivity, solitude is everything.
Right in the difficult we must have our joys, our happiness, our dreams: there against the depth of this background, they stand out, there for the first time we see how beautiful they are.
The only journey is the one within.
I want to unfold. Let no place in me hold itself closed, for where I am closed, I am false...
Fame – the aggregate of all the misunderstandings that collect around a new name.
If you will stay close to nature, to its simplicity, to the small things hardly noticeable, those things can unexpectedly become great and immeasurable.
Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depth of your heart; confess to yourself you would have to die if you were forbidden to write.
Death is the side of life which is turned away from us.
Every happiness is the child of a separation it did not think it could survive.
Our heart always transcends us.
Go into yourself and see how deep the place is from which your life flows.
Surely all art is the result of one’s having been in danger, of having gone through an experience all the way to the end, where no one can go any further.
Yet everything that touches us, me and you, takes us together like a violin’s bow, which draws one voice out of two separate strings.