Sand And Foam

Yes, there is a Nirvanah; it is in leading your sheep to a green pasture, and in putting your child to sleep, and in writing the last line of your poem.

The truly just is he who feels half guilty of your misdeeds.

Only great sorrow or great joy can reveal your truth.
If you would be revealed you must either dance naked in the sun, or carry your cross.

Our God in His gracious thirst will drink us all, the dewdrop and the tear.

When Life does not find a singer to sing her heart she produces a philosopher to speak her mind.

If it were not for your guests all houses would be graves.

Our mind is a sponge; our heart is a stream.
Is it not strange that most of us choose sucking rather than running?

A fact is a truth unsexed.

Inspiration will always sing; inspiration will never explain.

Lovers embrace that which is between them rather than each other.

If winter should say, “Spring is in my heart,” who would believe winter?

It is only when you are pursued that you become swift.

They say to me, “Should you know yourself you would know all men.”
And I say, “Only when I seek all men shall I know myself.”

Every great man I have known had something small in his make-up; and it was that small something which prevented inactivity or madness or suicide.

A strange form of self-indulgence! There are times when I would be wronged and cheated, that I may laugh at the expense of those who think I do not know I am being wronged and cheated.

In truth you owe naught to any man. You owe all to all men.

Faith is an oasis in the heart which will never be reached by the caravan of thinking.

My friend, you and I shall remain strangers unto life,
And unto one another, and each unto himself,
Until the day when you shall speak and I shall listen
Deeming your voice my own voice;
And when I shall stand before you
Thinking myself standing before a mirror.

Should you really open your eyes and see, you would behold your image in all images.
And should you open your ears and listen, you would hear your own voice in all voices.

I have learned silence from the talkative, toleration from the intolerant, and kindness from the unkind; yet strange, I am ungrateful to these teachers.

I said to Life, “I would hear Death speak.”
And Life raised her voice a little higher and said, “You hear him now.”

Crime is either another name of need or an aspect of a disease.

There is a space between man’s imagination and man’s attainment that may only be traversed by his longing.

Oftentimes I have hated in self-defense; but if I were stronger I would not have used such a weapon.

They say to me, “A bird in the hand is worth ten in the bush.”
But I say, “A bird and a feather in the bush is worth more than ten birds in the hand.”
Your seeking after *that feather* is life with winged feet; nay, it is life itself.

No longing remains unfulfilled.

How shall my heart be unsealed unless it be broken?

Said a skunk to a tube-rose, “See how swiftly I run, while you cannot walk nor even creep.”
Said the tube-rose to the skunk, “Oh, most noble swift runner, please run swiftly!”

How shall my heart be unsealed unless it be broken?

Paradise is there, behind that door, in the next room; but I have lost the key.
Perhaps I have only mislaid it.