Holy books are an insult to a God with good intentions.
Through words to the meaning of thoughts with no words.
One hand I extend into myself, the other toward others.
The eyesight for an eagle is what thought is to a man.
And this that you call solitude is in fact a big crowd.
There is a pledge of the big and of the small in the infinite.
To cut and tighten sentences is the secret of mastery.
Beyond all vanities, fights, and desires, omnipotent silence lies.
He will understand when it is too late that it is easier to love.
We forget old stories, but those stories remain the same.