literature

Do we take less pride in the possession of our home because its walls were built by some unknown carpenter, its tapestries woven by some unknown weaver on a far Oriental shore, in some antique time? No. We show our home to our friends with the pride as if it were our home, which it is. Why then should we take less pride when reading a book written by some long-dead author? Is it not our book just as much, or even more so, than theirs? So the landowner says, __ook at my beautiful home! Isn__ it fine?_ And not, __ook at the home so-and-so has built._ Thus we shouldn__ cry, __ook what so-and-so has written. What a genius so-and-so is!_ But rather, __ook at what I have read! Am I not a genius? Have I not invented these pages? The walls of this universe, did I not build? The souls of these characters, did I not weave?

To sense the peace of extinguished passionHappiness in not knowing the ultimate knowledge

At the end of the day your ability to connect with your readers comes down to how you make them feel.

He who writes to his beloved every day is not a lover, but a writer.

Writing is a bittersweet addiction. The more it drains you; the more replenished you feel, and you crave it even more.

No man is offended by another man's admiration of the woman he loves it is the woman only who can make it a torment.

One may enter the literary parlor via just about any door, be it the prison door, the madhouse door, or the brothel door. There is but one door one may not enter it through, which is the child room door. The critics will never forgive you such. The great Rudyard Kipling is one of a number of people to have suffered from this. I keep wondering to myself what this peculiar contempt towards anything related to childhood is all about.

Entering a cell, penetrating deep as a flying saucer to find a new galaxy would be an honorable task for a new scientist interested more in the inner state of the soul than in outer space.

Basically, being alive means keeping yourself ready for the sky to fall in on you at any time. If you start from the assumption that existence is only an ordeal, a test we have to pass, then you__e equipped to deal with its sorrows and its surprises. If you persist in expecting it to give you something it can__ give, that just proves that you haven__ understood anything. Take things as they come; don__ turn them into a drama. You__e not piloting the ship, you__e following the course of your destiny.

Dream by making and make by dreaming.

The night is still waiting.

We don__ know anything about silent sages, buried knowledge, the eye of the mute poet, serene seers, yet how many talkative destroyers, prophets and ideologues, teachers and beautifiers there are on the other side.

He had an answer to almost everything and he retired at an early age.

He knows he will be born again, And start fresh anew.

Everything that looks too perfect is too perfect to be perfect.

Heavenly bodies are nests of invisible birds.

To come to nothing through something is the way to outside from both sides.

Be aware of the high notes, of the blissful faces and their soft messages, and listen for the silent message of a highly decorated gift.