When dealing with the insane, the best method is to pretend to be sane.
Nothing was, nothing will be, everything has reality and presence
We are not going in circles, we are going upwards. The path is a spiral; we have already climbed many steps.
Slowly blossomed, slowly ripened in Siddhartha the realisation, the knowledge, what wisdom actually was, what the goal of his long search was. It was nothing but a readiness of the soul, an ability, a secret art, to think every moment, while living his life, the thought of oneness, to be able to feel and inhale the oneness.
Everyone can reach his goal, if he can think, wait and fast.
We kill when we close our eyes to poverty, affliction, or infamy. We kill when, because it is easier, we countenance, or pretend to approve of atrophied social, political, educational, and religious institutions, instead of resolutely combating them.
What I am in search of is not so much the gratification of a curiosity or a passion for worldly life, but something far less conditional. I do not wish to go out into the world with an insurance policy in my pocket guaranteeing my return in the event of a disappointment, like some cautious traveller who would be content with a brief glimpse of the world. On the contrary, I desire that there should be hazards, difficulties and dangers to face; I am hungry for reality, for tasks and deeds, and also for privation and suffering.
Om is the bow, the arrow is soul.
For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers.
Knowledge can communicated but not wisdom.
For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers. I revere them when they live in tribes and families, in forests and groves. And even more I revere them when they stand alone. They are like lonely persons. Not like hermits who have stolen away out of some weakness, but like great, solitary men, like Beethoven and Nietzsche.
You know quite well, deep within you, that there is only a single magic, a single power, a single salvation...and that is called loving. Well, then, love your suffering. Do not resist it, do not flee from it. It is your aversion that hurts, nothing else.
All I really wanted was to try and live the life that was spontaneously welling up within me. Why was that so very difficult?
He had loved and he had found himself. Most people love to lose themselves.
A house without books is a poor house, even if beautiful rugs are covering its floors and precious wallpapers and pictures cover its walls
I have begun to listen to the teachings my blood whispers to me.
Oh, love isn't there to make us happy. I believe it exists to show us how much we can endure.
Meaning and reality were not hidden somewhere behind things, they were in them, in all of them.
We have to stumble through so much dirt and humbug before we reach home. And we have no one to guide us. Our only guide is our homesickness.
Making music together is the best way for two people to become friends.
Opinions mean nothing; they may be beautiful or ugly, clever or foolish, anyone can embrace or reject them.
What you call passion is not spiritual force, but friction between the soul and the outside world.
What he had not learned, however, was this: to find contentment in himself and his own life
Man's life seems to me like a long, weary night that would be intolerable if there were not occasionally flashes of light, the sudden brightness of which is so comforting and wonderful, that the moments of their appearance cancel out and justify the years of darkness.
Every healthy person must have a goal in life and that life must have content.
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